


Revenge of the Three Little Pigs

by mskyo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 32,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskyo/pseuds/mskyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina and Emma find themselves alone and looking for the rest of their party. The Evil Queen must face the consequences of her past actions. Will Emma come to her aid, or understand that justice must be served...</p><p>*Some chapters have fairly graphic sex, and violence*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightfall

Dark rain clouds ripped light from the sky. The unstoppable force of night drowned everything else. Only endless shadows of grey, a flickering torch, and two pairs of eyes remained. Green with flecks of gold, and brown with traces of blood red, faced off each other. They stood by the edge of the forest. Fog oozed out, sticky and wet, as it searched to extinguish all remnants of warmth.

The green eyes looked amused and bemused. Her lips pursed. Her brow creased. She waved the flamed torch in front of the other woman.

“Don’t tell me the all powerful Evil Queen is afraid of a little fog?”

The words stung. Regina visibly winced at the remark but said nothing. Instead she let out a sigh. The air thick with cold.

“Seriously? You’re afraid?” Emma asked.

“Me afraid? I see you don’t know me at all Miss Swan.”

But Emma knew. She could see it. The flicker in the deep brown eyes, the slight twitch on the other woman’s upper lip, revealed all. The Queen, Regina Mills, was petrified.

Emma swung back to the forest. “It’s just a bit of fog.”

“Can’t you feel it? It’s unnatural. Perhaps imbued with magic,” Regina said. Fear laced her thoughts, and seeped into her voice.

It was Emma’s turn to sigh.

“We have to try,” she said.

“Agreed, but a little caution would not go astray. Like waiting for daylight.”

“You want to make camp, here?”

“Yes,” Regina replied. Her voice sounded with renewed conviction and authority, and a tinge of her usual sarcasm, “I’m not suggesting we build a fire Miss Swan, hold hands, and sing ‘Kumbaya’.”

“Sure now?” The smile on Emma’s face grew. The look that Regina gave her made chills run down her spine, and forced her smile to falter.

Together they looked for a large tree, a pine or similiar, that would give them shelter from the starting drizzle of rain and the encroaching fog. They found one with a large base that spread out, metres wide, with dry dirt and some tinder underneath. Emma managed to build a small fire. She let Regina light it with her magic. She extinguished the torch and stored it behind them. She sat in front of the smoky fire and watched Regina remove high heeled boots that were incongruous with their plight.

“Can’t you summon up a practical pair of hiking boots instead?” She bit back another piece of sarcasm when she saw the red feet, bloody and swollen from two days of hard walking. She leaned forward to try and examine them. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Emma’s question had a modicum of sympathy and warmth in it.

“It’s nothing a bit of rest won’t heal,” Regina snapped as she shooed Emma away with an irritated hand gesture. She then proceeded to rub her cold soggy feet with cold soggy hands.

“You’re joking right?” Emma didn’t let Regina’s false bravado stop her. She removed the fussing hands with a firm grip.

She touched the raw skin. The other woman tensed and bit back a small cry.

Emma gently felt around the woman’s left foot. She inhaled sharply like it was her pain and not the other woman’s. “Your ankle, it looks, broken.”

“What gave it away, the bone jutting out?” Emma pressed down hard and Regina let the cry escape. Seconds passed as she composed herself, and arched an eyebrow at Emma. “Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me.”

“And your stubbornness and stupidity never cease to fuck us all over,” Emma snapped.

“Excuse me?” Regina jerked her foot out of Emma’s hands. She limped to the other side of the fire in a huff and lay down. Her back to Emma.

“Sorry, sorry Regina. I didn’t mean-”

“Goodnight Miss Swan.”

“Regina, please-” Emma’s voice trailed off. There was no response. She sighed and sat down in front of the fire. She warmed her hands and stayed awake till she heard Regina’s breathing alter. Into sleep. An exhausted sleep.

She then lay down herself. She watched the other woman and let her breathing soothe her own.


	2. Fog

What seemed like minutes later, Emma opened a reluctant eye to see Regina looming over her. There was one hand on her shoulder shaking her awake.

“It’s just fog,” Emma grumbled and tried to turn over and back to sleep.

“Miss Swan,” Regina whispered through clenched teeth. “Wake up.”

Emma grabbed Regina’s arm. Her grip firm and angry. “What?”

Regina’s hand moved to Emma’s mouth and silenced any further outcries.

Emma sat up and looked into the other woman’s face. The dying light of the fire flickered across it. Revealing nothing but hard lines and something undefinable. An element that was enigmatic. Eyes that were dark brown pools of mystery that Emma found compelling.

“What?” Emma asked again, softer, and with some resignation.

“There’s something out there.”

“We’d established that. Fog, rain, and a shitty night with no food and little sleep.” Emma rubbed her eyes and tried to focus. Regina repeated her concern.

“Oh god. I need caffeine or alcohol. Both really.” Emma’s stomach announced loudly that it also needed food. Regina gave her stomach a look that appeared to command it to be quiet. “What?”

Emma looked around the camp, and out into the forest. All she saw was darkness and trees. She could hear the feint rustling of leaves and limbs, from a night wind, and the fall of rain. Heavier than before. The fog had descended and had completely enveloped them.

“You were meant to stay on watch,” Regina said in a low, harsh tone.

“Was I now? Don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“Common sense Miss Swan. I told you there’s something about the fog. Something… unnatural.”

“Fog Regina. It’s just fog. And, why are we whispering?”

“No!”

“Yes!” But Emma stopped. Her hearing picked up a heavy sound north east. Close, too close. She felt blindly for the torch. Lit it with the last of the fire’s embers and stood up.

“Wait here,” Emma said to Regina. Superfluous request when she saw that Regina’s ankle looked worse. “Strap it, and put your boot back on.”

Regina watched as Emma walked away from the camp site and deeper into the forest. She watched the torch dance in the fog, then it swallowed by it. Minutes passed. Nothing.

“Miss Swan?”

Still nothing.

“Miss Swan?” Her voice rang out. High-pitched. A tinge of stress in it.

And then Emma burst forth from the fog. Its entrails followed her in a swirl of motion. She doused the camp fire and pulled Regina to her feet.

“We gotta go. Now.” Emma half dragged, half carried Regina.

“What is it? What did you see?”

Emma flinched. The sight had ingrained on her retina. The sight of blood. Two burly men covered in blood. Large axes dripped with it. Faces, arms, chests, even their clothes were drenched in it. One of them had entrails around his neck. If that wasn’t enough, one of them said, ’Found her. It’s her alright. She’s with another. They’re both dressed funny.’ The other, ‘Time for fun and bloodletting.’

Emma didn’t need to stay and hear anything more from the men. She backtracked as quickly and quietly as she could, and grabbed Regina. They needed to high-tail it. Anywhere but their camp.

“Two men. Not friendly,” was all Emma said to Regina.

Regina cried out in pain as Emma drove them deeper into the forest, into the thick of the fog. The torch struggled to stay lit in the rain.

After an hour they took a few minutes rest under a tree. Tall, with a few lower branches. It offered scant cover.

Regina was thankful for the respite in any case. She leaned against the trunk. Emma’s chest to hers, holding her upright. Their faces, close.

Emma could smell Regina’s scent. Despite no bathing for two days the woman somehow managed to smell fresh and intoxicating. A brief flash of desire surged through Emma. She gulped and tried to settle her racing heart and the change in her breathing. She stifled her physical reaction with thoughts of the heavy reality of their situation, and the fact that Regina had an ongoing habit of being her nemesis. Emma’s mind raced. Confused. The absurdity. The ill timing. Her body had betrayed her.

“Ready?” Emma asked a little too high pitched, keen to release from their close proximity.

“I can’t.” Regina shook her head.

“Regina, these guys, they didn’t look sane.”

“I can’t. Please can we just rest here a little longer?” The pained look that Regina gave, made Emma’s resolution waver.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes, okay. Five minutes.” She helped Regina into a sitting position. “If you’d seen them. Their faces-” She took a thankful step back.

Regina inhaled sharply. “Describe them.”

“Two men. Similiar build. Stocky, hairy, covered in blood and bits of animals. Internal bits. They carried axes. They weren’t our welcoming party Regina. They weren’t going to offer us beer and pretzels on arrival.”

“Champagne and canapes dear,” Regina corrected. She smiled. A return to her normal self. Emma smiled back. “Their eyes, what colour were their eyes?”

Emma shrugged. “It was dark. I dunno. Maybe black?”

“Were they sniffing the air?”

“Kind of-”

“Oh.” Emma watched as Regina’s breathing quickened. “The Sinciput brothers.”

“The what now?” Emma asked.

“The Sinciput brothers.”

“Brothers as in siblings? Or religious weird cult kind of brothers?”

“Siblings.” Regina looked at Emma directly. Her brown eyes pooled with pain. “I’m so sorry Miss Swan.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For everything. You should leave me. You have a better chance without me.”

“Better chance of what?” Emma knew the answer.

“Of living. I should have realised. The fog. They use it to hunt. To draw in prey.”

“And tonight, we’re it. Great, just great.”


	3. Hungry

“Emma,” Regina shouted. Her outstretched hand in a warning. Her eyes filled with shock and worry.

“Great,” the deep voice bellowed in Emma’s ear. “Just great.”

Emma swung around and slammed into a wet hairy chest. She swore and tried to step back. She was met by another. His fist sent her back into the arms of the first. He grabbed her and held her firm as she flailed. His arms wrapped around her arms and waist and squeezed till she was winded.

Emma heard a guttural cry escape Regina’s lips as the back of an axe swung down and crushed her already damaged ankle. The blunt end hit broken bone. More bone shattered on impact. A second swing cut open her face, and pushed her to the ground.

Regina pulled herself up. A scowl and glowing red eyes greeted the two men. She grumbled in a dangerously low voice. A spell had begun to form. Her hand lit up with fire as she hurled it to the man getting ready to strike again. He side stepped the fireball. His shoulder singed but otherwise unharmed. He laughed, then his face turned to murder.

“For my brother,” he spat.

The third strike hit her in the ribs.

Both women cried out.

Emma managed to get her feet onto the tree trunk. Unable to wrench her arms free from the man’s death grip. Using her feet, she used all the force she could and pushed off the tree. It sent them both reeling backwards. He lost his balance and they both crashed to the ground.

“Time to die Queen,” said the other man as he loomed above Regina. He swung his axe in a show. Regina’s last show. His dirty teeth exposed in a crooked smile.

He swung the axe low and horizontal. He aimed for Regina’s head. The axe lodged itself in the tree trunk, inches from her neck. If Emma hadn’t crash-tackled him, Regina would be headless.

Emma was pulled up by the hair and flung back down on the ground. Her captor straddled her, hands around her throat. She felt around for the axe. Desperate. Angry. Panicked.

“Get off her you pig,” Regina spat. She was standing. Anger seethed through her whole body. Her arms outstretched. Hands tensed, like she was going to claw the men to death. Instead she invoked a curse and spell, and hurled it at them.

It hit both men with such force it sent them flying into the thick of the fog. Landing only after their bodies had hit trees and fallen heavily to the muddy ground. She helped Emma get up.

“Are you,” Regina’s voice cracked, “okay?”

Emma nodded. “Wait,” she said in a husky voice. Barely audible. She raced off into the fog to search for the two men. She found them sprawled on the ground. Neither were conscious. But they were breathing. She grabbed one of their hunting knives and ran back to Regina. Regina was slumped against the tree. Left leg raised a little, hand holding her ribs. Face bleeding. She gave Emma a sour smile.

“Dead?”

Emma shook her head. Regina’s eyes flickered a hint of fear. Only a flicker. Her eyes quickly returned to their normal selves - impenetrable and steely.

“Miss Swan,” Regina said. It was less of a command and more of a question, “You should go back and kill them.”

“Not my style,” Emma countered. And with that Regina acceded.

Without further words Emma and Regina began to move away from their camp. From the men. Deeper into the forest. Armed only with a hunting knife and Regina’s currently erratic and quite strained magic. Emma had tried to pick up one of the axes, only to be astonished at its weight. Heavy and awkward. It would only slow their progress down. All she wanted was as much distance from the men as they could manage.


	4. Last Straw

Emma could feel Regina tense in her arms with each step they took. Each step was a nightmare for herself, she could only imagine what Regina was going through. Left foot. Then right. Left foot. Then right. Breathe. It took a few seconds before she realised Regina was resisting her forward momentum. Had she passed out? There was no way she had the strength to carry on if the woman was unconscious.

“Regina?” Emma asked softly. She was rewarded with a grunt. She pushed back some of the other woman’s hair so that she could see her eyes. They flashed such a pained look at her that it took her aback. Not that she was overly surprised that the woman was in her own private hell, but that she revealed it in her eyes. Revealed it to her. Regina rarely showed any hint of vulnerability. And here she was, exposed, in her arms, face lined with a whole range of hurt.

“Regina,” she said. Her voice filled with tenderness.

“I can’t.” Regina’s eyes grew moist with tears. She pulled away from Emma. “Tell Henry-”

Emma saw red.

“Oh no you don’t,” Emma interrupted. “You don’t get to play that card. Not now.”

Emma tried to pull Regina upright. Her hands bruised the other woman’s arms. Her grip firmer than needed to be. But Regina still resisted.

“They wont stop, you know,” Regina said, her body folded in pain. Emma bent down and caught Regina’s gaze.

“We’re doing this. We are doing this. Just another hour or so. A few more k’s between us and them. And I don’t think they’re going anywhere in a hurry. Not in this weather, not in their condition.”

“Only fools and demons brave the winter rain storms,” Regina said in a hushed, taut tone.

Both women were cold to the core. Drenched. The heavy rain had not given them a moments peace. The trees of the forest only seemed to make their journey worse. With high branches and few leaves to give any cover. The lower brush were heavy with water. And the pools of mud and rain did nothing but slow their progress. The fog, at least, had dissipated a small amount. Enough to give Emma some hope they were moving out of the Sinciput brothers’ range. Whatever their beef was with Regina, or her, she couldn’t afford to let them stop their own imperative. Find Henry.

“If I have to drag your royal highness all the way to the mountains and back. I will. Broken foot or not. I’m not leaving you. Besides, Henry would never forgive me.” She failed to add, ‘and I’d never forgive myself’.

Regina pouted, glared at Emma with as much animosity as a glare could hold, and stood upright without assistance. Silently she indicated a large stick. Emma clicked on, picked it up, and passed it to Regina. It was easily a foot too short to be a walking stick, or any sort of aid to Regina. She held back a laugh as Regina almost fell over in an attempt to use it.

“Maybe we’ll find one more suited to your height oh royalness.” She cocked an eyebrow. “But hey, you’re almost as short as it.”

Regina scowled. She attempted a spell on the stick. There was a puff of smoke and the stick shrunk to about three feet long.

“That’s more like it. Perfect,” Emma said. “Always knew you were Grumpy from the Seven Little Dwarfs.”

Regina flashed her a ‘shut the fuck up’ look. That made Emma smile. On the inside at least.

“Magic not back up to par your highness?” Even though her words were laced with her own usual sarcasm, she was worried about the other woman. She, well, both of them really, had been through a lot. Emma needed Regina’s magic strong. But she had no idea how long that part of Regina would heal and stabilise.

Regina tried yet another spell, only to have the stick shrink to little more than toothpick size. The anger and frustration on her face was enough to get Emma to stop her riding her. Instead Emma reached out with some compassion. A smirk faded on her face.

“Come on. You’re going to have to lean on me a bit longer.” Without further objection Emma wrapped one arm around Regina’s waist and pulled her close. Regina, in turn, wrapped her own arm along Emma’s back and rested her hand on Emma’s shoulder. A hug of sorts.

“Small steps, Miss Swan,” Regina said tersely. More tersely than intended. Every part of her on fire. She was in agony.

“Small steps Regina.” Emma wanted to say something else. Wanted to reassure the other woman. Comfort her in some way. But she knew it would be brushed away like an irritant.

They walked slow. In the dark. In the rain. Through forest and bush and muddy ground. Regina could feel the strength in Emma wane. Her own strength long since gone. She unwillingly, but necessary, leaned heavily on Emma. Each step in shooting pain. Each step a nightmare. Each breath, short and sharp. But she didn’t complain. She didn’t reveal her distress.

Regina’s head was down. She looked at each step. Half step, half hop. She no longer looked or cared where Emma directed them. She just hoped Emma would stop the agonising trek. Let her rest. Lie down and sleep. Sleep. Forever if need be. To put an end to her torment - mental and physical. The thought of Henry was the only thing keeping her from surrendering.

It was Emma who saw the shelter first. The other woman had grown too heavy to carry. And Emma knew she was nearing her own limits of endurance.

She kicked the door open and entered with Regina. She had slumped in her arms. Still conscious but only just. Regina didn’t even acknowledge the change. But Emma did. Relief swelled in her heart and mind. The rain had stopped pounding them. A chance for respite.

The shelter was barely more than an animal pen with mud brick walls, thatch roof, a crumbling timber door, and a window that was too dirty to see through. To Emma it was a palace. Thankful for the pile of timber next to a large fireplace. Straw strewn across the floor. A haven for travellers, for them.


	5. Animal

The room smelled like animal. There was no furniture save for a small corner cabinet.

Emma lowered Regina to the floor, close to the fireplace. The woman groaned at the change but otherwise remained silent. Emma drew back some of Regina’s dank hair covering her eyes.

“Regina?” she asked. Regina lifted her head. Her eyes were glazed over and her skin, pallor. Emma suspected she had gone into shock. “Regina, are you okay?” Concern and compassion filled her voice. She knew the answer was ‘no’ but she asked anyway. She, herself, was faring a lot better. Her legs and back ached, and her throat was still tender from one of the men trying to choke the life out of her.

“Regina?” she asked again.

Regina grumbled a reply. It sounded like ‘cold’.

“Me too kid, me too,” Emma said. Then she realised her mistake. She’d fallen into Henry-mode. Her love for Henry seeped into her words. Her cheeks flushed. “Hang in there.”

She watched Regina take in a sharp breath and nod her head.

Emma turned her attention to the cabinet. She found it held flint, a blanket, a stained pillow, some chipped pottery mugs, and a cooking pot. Emma lifted the lid to the cooking pot. She arched an eyebrow at long since decomposed food remnants and a dead rat. She promptly placed the lid back down. Grabbed the flint and blanket and closed the cabinet door.

She gave the blanket a once over. It was dark grey, tattered, and dirty. She shook it and a cloud of dust puffed in her face. Three sneezes later she determined that it was dry and serviceable enough. She hung the blanket around Regina’s wet shoulders and rubbed them in an attempt to warm and dry her a bit.

“Thanks,” Regina managed to say softly. Her eyes met Emma’s. They were filled with tears mixed with pain and gratitude. Emma pursed her lips and turned away. She switched her focus on the fire and firewood instead. Not the puppy dog eyes that melted her heart.

Emma managed to get the fire started. It crackled and smoked initially but quickly its flames became strong and tall, and the number of glowing embers grew. The cold stone hearth lost its icy intensity. The emanating heat a welcome relief.

The fire lit up the room, which in Emma’s mind wasn’t wholly a good thing. She could see the spiderwebs, a few with spiders, the dirt and grime, and the cracks in the walls where rain bled through. Emma, paused for thought, watched the flickering amber light and long shadows.

“Well,” Emma said. “It’s not exactly the Four Seasons. More like quarter of a season, if that.”

Regina didn’t seem to notice or acknowledge the fire or Emma’s words. She hadn’t moved a muscle since their arrival. She simply stared vacantly into a dark corner of the room.

Emma took her jacket off. Un-tucked her tank top, and with a bit of encouragement from the hunting knife, tore a strip off the bottom of it. It was pretty damp like the rest of her. All she really wanted was some shut-eye but she knew she had to see to Regina first and then possibly stay on watch for the whole night. No sleep. She held back a yawn.

Emma kneeled beside Regina, her back to the fire getting toasty warm. She let a few moments pass as she made a quick visual scan of Regina and her injuries. She went to touch Regina’s face but Regina recoiled slightly.

“I’m fine,” Regina said.

“I can see that. Nevertheless, I need to check your injuries.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Regina said, her voice strained.

Emma changed tack. “At least get you cleaned up a bit.” Emma placed a hand on the other woman’s arm. Thankful she didn’t recoil at the touch. “Alright?”

Regina just closed her eyes briefly and said nothing. Emma took that as a go-ahead.

Using the damp torn strip of cloth she cleaned the mud and blood, as best she could, off Regina’s face. The woman, to her credit, only flinched once in pain. There was a gash from her temple to her jawline. Her cheek red, black, and swollen. Her lips were bloody and she had cuts on them and her nose. There were no visible signs of any major head trauma nor did she display any signs of concussion. Emma sighed in relief.

Emma moved her attention lower, parting Regina’s jacket gingerly. The shirt was blood stained and clung to her, especially around the ribs.

“We’re going to have to remove your jacket so I can take a better look.”

Regina swayed a little and gave a small grunt as a reply. Regina fussed, making it clear she was going to remove her own jacket.

She struggled, but managed to get the blanket off her shoulders. Each movement visibly sent waves of pain through her. Then the puppy dog eyes gave Emma consent to help her.

Emma touched Regina, careful that she didn’t aggravate Regina or her injuries. She part held Regina as she began undressing her. She noted the woman wasn’t breathing normally. Her breath shallow and hoarse.

By the time Emma got the last sleeve pulled off, Regina had fallen unconscious in her arms. Emma gently lowered her down onto the ground and placed the jacket under her head as a pillow.

She looked at the blood soaked shirt from breast to waist. It was enough to make Emma start.

“Fuck.” She peeled back the shirt and found the woman’s torso a mess of blood, bruising and swelling. There was a deep cut down her side and was still bleeding. Emma swallowed hard. She cut the shirt off Regina and did her best to use it as a tourniquet in an effort to apply some pressure to the main wound and hopefully stop the bleeding.

Emma then addressed Regina’s feet. She took one boot off. Just a few blisters and red from the cold, nothing more. Emma then attempted to take the other boot off only to find it seemed to be glued to her leg. Regina let out a moan at the touch.

“Okay, this is going to hurt.” Emma was about to put some force into getting the boot off when the door of the shelter flung open. A solitary figure, holding a torch aloft, stood against the night’s backdrop.


	6. Stranger

He drew back his hood and revealed a tanned face, close cropped beard, and short hair, a mix of ocherous colours. His yellow eyes shone bright and curious in the flickering light of torch and fire. He flashed Emma a toothy grin. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Her muscles tensed and she listened beyond the confines of the walls.

Nothing but rain and wind responded.

“Good evening,” he said. His voice deep and melodic. “I invoke the traveller’s maxim and request to peacefully share shelter and fire for the night.”

Emma’s hand crept towards the hunting knife inches away. Her eyes not budging from his. She gave the man a curt nod as she wrapped her fingers around the handle of the knife. The other hand rested lightly on Regina’s leg, almost possessively.

He threw his pack on the ground under the window, along with a bow and a full quiver. He removed his waxed hooded coat, and brushed the wet off it.

“As a thank you, I can offer you some game. Cook it on the fire. Or maybe just some bread and drink?” Emma noticed his eyes dart around the room, resting briefly on the unconscious Regina, and then back to Emma. “Not a good night to get caught out on, is it?” When Emma didn’t say anything he continued. “Normally I’d sleep under the stars, or make my way to the nearest town. But the weather got too rough too quick. And that fog. Thick as marsh soup.”

He rustled through his pack. Emma turned on her ‘high alert’. But he just pulled out a small dead animal, skinned and ready for roasting. He then extracted an arrow from his quiver.

“You’re all prepared,” Emma said, as she placed the blanket over Regina’s exposed and inert form. Though Emma’s eyes never strayed from him.

She watched as he kneeled by the hearth, staked the animal with the arrow and placed it on some hooks above the fire.

To Emma’s unasked question, “The arrow is fire retardant. The meat should cook through before the arrow burns. It’s my way of knowing when its ready for the eating.”

“Oh,” Emma said.

He gestured at Regina. “What happened? Is she okay?”

Regina moaned in her sleep, in pain. Emma gave her a fleeting glance. Regina needed help, soon.

“Yes,” Emma said, still cautious, still untrusting. “She’s just asleep.”

“My name is Grex,” he said.

“Emma.” He indicated Regina. Emma told him, “Regina.”

“Good evening to you both.” His smile was slight. “Though I believe your friend here cannot hear me. She sleeps not a willing sleep.”

“She just needs rest.”

“I think she needs more than that. Her ribs looked bruised or broken. Her leg, the same?”

“How did you-”

The man shrugged. “Too many trips in the wilderness when I was but a whelp of a boy. I had no father to guide me at that stage. I’ve broken or damaged most things at some point in time.”

Emma moved her hand to rest on Regina’s shoulder, feeling it rise and fall with her broken breathing.

“There’s a small town, Evanaide, about a quarter century of miles from here. An easy walk during the day.” He added, “and good weather. I’m headed that way myself. Tomorrow, if she survives the night. I can help you get her there.”

“If?” Emma asked weakly.

“She has the colour of death about her,” he said simply. “If we can get her to the town, there is an alchemy store there I believe. If I remember correctly. The town has hot springs that run through its heart, and are meant to contain healing properties.”

“How do you know all this?” Emma asked, suspicion forming. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the knife, hidden under the blanket.

“I went there when I was quite young,” the man admitted. “With my father. We were searching for a cure for my mother.” He looked into the grey window. “We found the cure. But there was nothing we could do. It was too late. Too late for both my parents.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma said cautiously. The man had an edge to him. He was sorrowful and perhaps unhinged. She knew she had to chose her words carefully. Her actions even more so.

He turned sharply back to her. A moment of anger on his face quickly wiped aside by a sad smile.

“Let’s start with getting that boot off your friend. See the state of her leg. See if we need to cut it off. What do you say… Emma?”


	7. Cut

“Cut her boot off,” Emma clarified. She tried not to flinch when he corrected her.

“No, I mean her leg. There’s always the possibility she’ll lose her leg. Or never walk on it again.” His words sent chills down Emma’s spine.

“We’re not cutting off her leg.”

“If you say so.” He relented, combined with a scowl.

“I do,” Emma said.

Emma got Grex to hold down Regina’s leg, firmly. One hand was a little too close to Regina’s inner thigh for her comfort, but she said nothing. The quicker she removed the boot, the quicker his offending hand would be removed. His other hand was flat on Regina’s chest, in the off chance she regained consciousness.

She grabbed the boot’s zipper and pulled down with as much force as she could manage. She tried not to look at the skin that came with it. The boot unzipped to the ankle, where Emma used both her hands and all her body to pull off the remainder. Regina groaned and her body instinctively jerked but she remained passed out.

Even Grex blinked in horror at the leg. Bits of bone hung out at odd angles. The whole leg was black with bruising, bloodied and swollen.

Emma felt a wave of nausea at the sight. She took big gulps of air and tried to stabilise her own reaction. How had she walked at all was beyond Emma.

“I think I need a drink,” Emma said to no one in particular.

Grex rummaged through his pack. Emma darted a hasty glance at him, hoping it wasn’t a saw. But he drew out a small pottery bottle and a glass jar with something, puce in colour, inside. He handed Emma the jar. Uncorked the bottle and took a swig, then handed her that as well.

She took a swig. Lighter fluid tasted better. But it heated her throat and innards. And gave her some dutch courage. Which was what she so desperately needed. She gave him back the bottle and unscrewed the lid to the jar. Its instant aroma affronted her senses, and she waved hastily for the bottle back. She took another swig.

“Oh my god. That’s repulsive.”

“The salve should help reduce the swelling and internal bleeding,” Grex said.

“What is it?” Grex was about to tell her when she said, “Actually I don’t want to know.”

“Shall I rub it on her?” Grex asked. Emma shook her head.

“No, no. I’ll do it.” Emma peeled back leftover leggings which had been torn up to mid thigh. She went to place her hand in the murky purple-brown mix when Grex beat her to it.

“You don’t have to use much,” he said. “A slither will help.” He began rubbing Regina’s leg with the salve. Emma pushed his hand away.

“No, I’ll do it,” she said in a stronger tone. She dipped her hand in the mixture and then began gently rubbing it over Regina’s leg, starting with the ankle.

“No, no. She’s unconscious, no need to be so gentle,” Grex said, irritated. But Emma pushed him back a second time.

Regina groaned at even the lightest touch. When Emma finished, she placed a hand on the older woman’s shoulder and said softly, “Sorry, Regina.”

“Now we wait,” he said. “Eat and wait.” Grex also insisted they wash their hands using a flask of his water. He passed Emma a towel. His bad mood gone as quick as it came.

He stabbed the animal with a knife from his boot and placed it on the hearth. He chopped at it like it wasn’t burning hot. His hands soon dripped with the animal’s fat. He handed a leg over to Emma.

Although Emma was starving she barely managed to eat more than a small handful of the hot meat. Grex, though, ate almost the whole thing. As an afterthought he picked some meat off the bone and wrapped it in some material. He licked his fingers then cocked his head towards Regina.

“Is she your kinswoman?” he asked.

“Something like that,” Emma said, looking at Regina, filled with concern. She placed a large log onto the fire.

“Or something more?”

Emma glanced at him. There was an undercurrent in the man’s voice that unsettled her. She decided not to react, but simply repeated, “My kinswoman.”

He grunted. He seemed somewhat satisfied with her answer.

“Time for sleep,” she said, as she laid down next to Regina. Hoping that he would do the same. He stood for few moments looking down on both women. Emma feared he was going to do something. But he turned his back and moved over to rest by his pack.

“Goodnight,” he said.

Emma didn’t know how she was going to stay awake through the night. Her body craved sleep. But she had to. For Regina. For her own safety.


	8. Dream

_Emma watched as the woman at the bottom of the spiral staircase, turned and smiled at her. Her purple dress, silk and ethereal, flowed in her wake. Her brown eyes sparkled flecks of light gold. It was an invitation. The mere thought of joining the woman in her bedroom made Emma’s loins respond. A jolt of pure pleasure surged through her._

_She approached. Took the other woman’s hand and pulled her down so as to draw her near. They kissed. Lips, soft and warm, and yielding. Emma melted into the kiss. Melded. Lost in the moment. A long long glorious moment._

_Her hands moved to the woman’s hips. Then lower. She lifted the purple dress ever so slightly. Slipped her hands along warm flesh. She drank in the sensation. Her heart raced. Her breathing quickened. Her knees felt weak._

_The woman had closed her eyes and gave a satisfied moan as a response to her touch. Emma spread her fingers and created lace patterns on the woman’s skin. One hand glided up the woman’s inner thigh. She parted the woman’s legs. Her thumb and knuckles met with her warm centre. She stroked her there. Lightly, slowly increasing the motion and pressure. She wanted to drink her in. Go down on her. Make her cry out her name, and beg for release. She wanted to fuck her. Hard and fast. Make every part of the other woman’s body sing._

_It took all her willpower and strength to go slow. She stroked the warm centre. With each stroke the centre became hot, wet and swollen with desire. A moan escaped both women. Emma pushed the woman’s legs apart further, till her stance was unsteady and had to grab the balustrade, and Emma’s shoulder for balance._

_Emma curled her fingers around the sides of the woman’s underwear and pulled down. Time to stroke harder. Flesh on flesh. Go inside her. She gulped in the woman’s intoxicating scent. She knew her own loins were moist with pleasure. She gripped the woman’s thighs hard. Pulled them even further apart. Emma started to kneel. Mouth open. Moist and eager. Her mind already had her tongue circling the clitoris. Lapping at her juices. Her tongue then pushing deep inside the woman._

_“Mom?” the young voice cut through Emma’s desire. She flushed with guilt and shame. She spun around._

_“Henry?” said the woman on the stairs. There was no surprise in her voice, just a mild curiosity. But it was still thick with desire. “Henry. Shouldn’t you be in bed young man?”_

_“What are you doing?” he asked, worry and confusion lined on his face._

_“Kiddo…” Emma didn’t know how to explain this one. She was breathless from near panic._

_“Henry.” The other woman said again, “Henry.” Then the voice became insistent. “Henry.”_

_Emma was ripped from the dream._

 

Emma awoke to discover her hand had gripped Regina’s bad leg so hard it had left a hand print on her. She removed her hand in shock. Still dazed and sleepy she glanced around the room.

Grex appeared to be asleep. His breathing slow and steady. His back turned away from them. She admonished herself for being so careless. She had been determined not to drift off. Her mind filled with thoughts of her dream.

“Just a dream,” she said aloud. “Just a silly silly dream.”

She tried to focus on the present. The sounds of heavy rain persisted outside. She hoped it would relent by dawn. The fire had died down so Emma stoked it. She pushed the logs around with her hands and poked at them with her knife and waited for new flames to flicker up.

“Henry,” groaned Regina. “Henry.”

Regina. Emma’s face flushed with embarrassment. So that was what had woken her. Regina was talking in her sleep. Her brow hot and sweaty. Her skin burning. She clearly had a fever.

“Henry,” the word escaped Regina’s lips like a broken voice. Stilted. Anguish laden. Pained. Emma used the small towel and wiped Regina’s face with it. Careful to only dab at the cut. She hoped the towel’s cool, soft surface would ease Regina’s suffering.

She reached out for the blanket that Regina had flung off herself. Emma went to place it back on her when she looked down at Regina’s leg. Curious. Not only was the hand print still there but the black bruising had turned yellow in its wake. She leaned down and touched the skin. Flecks of sparkling gold light moved between her hand and Regina’s leg. She jerked it away.

“What the-” Emma glanced at her hand, and then Regina’s skin. She tentatively touched another black spot on Regina’s leg. Moved her hand lightly. Regina moaned in pain and Emma removed her hand quickly again. She watched as small flickers of light swirled in tiny motions above and in the skin where she had been.

She leaned down and tried tracing a small wound on Regina’s knee. Nothing happened. She touched it again. Still nothing. But Regina gave a low short cry. Almost a sob.

Emma removed her hands and looked down at Regina’s face. Her breathing was becoming shallow again. And her face started to line in pain.

Then it hit. Pain racked through Regina’s body and she began to flail. Her hands groped at her wounds. She thrashed around on the straw floor. Emma had to hold her wrists in the hope that Regina would settle. And not rip open the cuts and start new blood flow.

“Shhh,” Emma said. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” The words were filled with hope not knowing.

Regina groaned again. This time the word that escaped her lips was ‘Emma’. Emma loosened her grip, in shock. Had she heard correctly? Her shock was soon replaced with concern as Regina thrashed again. Her grip tightened and pushed Regina’s arms down. They fought. Unconscious with conscious. Until Regina’s strength waned and her arms dropped to her sides. The motion had placed Emma over her torso. Leaning into Regina. Face close to face.

“Emma.” The voice was soft and sweet.

Emma gulped. Regina lay inert beneath her. She watched the woman’s breathing steady. Her face seemed to be a little more at peace, and less torment drawn upon it. Emma let out a thankful sigh.


	9. Travel

Emma awoke. The rain had stopped and early morning sunlight flooded their shelter. She sat up.

“Shit,” she said. Angry with herself that she fell asleep for the second time. Though at least it was a dreamless sleep.

“I’ve gotta stop doing that.” She rubbed the back of her neck and surveyed her surround. In one sweeping glance she noted the door to their shelter wide open, sun’s warmth streamed in, Regina’s state of health, her breathing not quite as shallow, a healthy and recently stoked fire, and a missing Grex. No sign of him or his gear.

Emma gave Regina a once over. She was happy to see the woman’s breathing was steady and almost normal, though perhaps a little shallow. The colour had returned to Regina’s face, on one side at least. But the swelling and bruising on the remainder of her face, as well as her ribs and leg looked about the same. There were small signs of yellowing. Mostly where Emma had touched her the night before. Emma also noted her hand-print was still suspiciously apparent on Regina’s thigh.

‘That should be an interesting discussion,’ Emma thought.

Before she attempted to wake Regina, Emma decided to do a recon of the immediate area around the shelter. Check if Grex was still near, or at least try to detect which direction he had headed. Hopefully so she and Regina could follow to the small town he mentioned. She also needed to ensure the burly Sinciput brothers weren’t close by, thirsty for vengeance.

She returned about twenty minutes later to find Regina, half sitting up, her face grey. She watched her retch.

Emma handed Regina their small flask of water. “Lucky I found a stream just north west of here. Try sipping some.”

“Miss Swan,” Regina said in a croaky voice. Admonishing and irritable.

“Good morning your royal majesty.” Emma’s tone was not wholly unfriendly but the latter words, the address, were steeped in sarcasm and condescension. “How are you feeling? Better or worse?”

“Quite,” was all Regina said in reply, just as another wave of nausea hit her.

When the retching subsided, Emma asked, “Think you can stand?”

“Of course Miss Swan.” She stood. It was a stiff and ungainly rise from the ground. Her face a mask as she hid the internal hurt. All of her weight was on her right leg.

Emma put a fist to her waist. Licked her lips and gave a wary and unsatisfied look at Regina’s struggle.

“And walk?”

Regina swallowed hard and tried to place weight on her left leg. She nearly buckled and passed out at the attempt.

“Perhaps not.” Regina glanced down at her tattered clothing. Her eyes lingered on the curious handprint, then back up to no shirt (except for what was being used as a tourniquet), a bloodstained laced bra and tattered leggings.

“What exactly happened to my clothing?” Emma was pleased to hear strength in the woman’s voice, if nothing else.

Emma made a face. “Yeah, about that. Look, sorry. Ah, sorry. I needed to check your injuries and use-”

“I can see that,” Regina snapped, cutting Emma off. Her tone was dismissive. “What was wrong with using the aged…”

“Blanket,” Emma filled in.

“Yes, Miss Swan, you would call it that wouldn’t you. I’d call it a glorified rag,” Regina said. Emma tried to keep the smile out of her tone and off her face. Regina was clearly feeling better.

“Oh, and thanks for saving my life, again,” Emma said. Emphasis clearly on the ‘again’.

Regina’s brow creased and then the reluctant words were spoken with stiff formality. “Thank you Miss Swan.”

“My pleasure,” Emma said.

“Pleasure?” Regina questioned. Emma turned away, blushing. She hoped Regina didn’t take notice of the change in her tone or the redness on her cheeks.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t go that far,” Emma mumbled. She collected their small amount of belongings. Emma pointed to the boot. “Don’t suppose you could get that back on?”

“Not unless you can magically place it my leg,” Regina said, incredulous.

“Can I? Use magic I mean-” Emma said, ignoring the sarcasm.

“I don’t know, can you?” Regina smirked. “I doubt you could pull a rabbit out of a hat let alone practice restoration or alteration arcane arts.”

“I could with some practice though, right?”

Regina huffed. “I suppose anything is possible Miss Swan. Its more likely though you’d disintegrate what little clothing I have left.”

A slow smile registered on Emma’s face. She held back on saying ‘a win-win then’. But the thought must have surfaced on her face. Regina looked horrified.

“Miss Swan! That’s hardly appropriate.”

“But this is, right?” Both women swung around to see Gex standing in the doorway. Three fish were skewered on an arrow he held high. “Breakfast my lovely ladies.”

Regina flashed Emma an angry glare.

“Regina, this is Grex. Grex, Regina.”

“Glad to see you’re still alive. And you’ve still got all your body parts. You can thank your,” he paused and leered, “fellow ’kinswoman’ for that.”

“Oh?” Regina’s mood was not improving.

“It was touch,” again Grex paused, a second too long, “and go there for a bit.”

“Who are you exactly?” Regina commanded.

“Grex, as your kinswoman informed you.”

“What’s your family name?”

“It’s just Grex. I was orphaned too early in life to claim a family name.”

Regina eyed him. Lips pursed. “You look, somehow, familiar.”

“No, we’ve never met Regina. I would remember that.” He gave her a smile. Regina was unimpressed.

“You may address me as Ms Mills. Not, Regina.”

“Sure.” He shrugged, barely acknowledging the signs of rising anger in Regina. Emma did notice and was starting to panic at what would happen if she killed their only hope. She tried to distract Regina with a stick. The puppy took the bait. She handed Regina a large stick she had found, one that would probably make a good walking aide.

“Serviceable,” Regina acknowledged. She looked it over.

‘It’s not a weapon Regina,’ Emma thought to herself. Hoping Regina only saw it for what Emma had intended it for.

“I like my fish cooked rare.” Grex interrupted Emma’s thoughts. “Any other preference? Ms Mills? Emma? They’re funny names. You aren’t from around these parts, are you?”


	10. Evanaide

They arrived at the small town of Evanaide just before dusk. Nestled at the base of a mountain.

Regina was grumpy for the entire day, though with steadily decreasing snide remarks. Whatever healing progress Regina had made the previous night seemed to completely drain from her with each laboured step during the day.

The chill air of fog nipped at their heels. Rolling in with soft sticky tendrils. The sky had turned grey, and rain had begun. A light, insistent drizzle.

“Great, just great,” Emma said. Cold steam expelled from her lips with each breath. She shot a glance at Regina. Emma was amazed at the woman’s inner strength. She still managed to walk even though each step was obvious agony. Regina leaned heavily on Emma, her walking stick, less so on Grex. Emma noted the mistrust Regina gave him. She maintained a tense tolerance of his touch, only out of necessity, let alone anything he said or did.

Emma could feel Regina slump in her arms at the prospect of rest and some relief from pain. Evanaide greeted them with a narrow, neatly paved main street, lined with timber shops, each with faded colourful banners, and square lanterns swinging in the night air breeze. A few residences were above the shops, most sprawled out behind them.

Hidden behind the shops on the south-side was a stream and hot springs.

“Do you, would you like some gold pieces? You’ll need them for trade here. That and a bed at the local inn.” He fiddled in his pocket, jangling gold.

“Oh, no thanks. We’ll be okay,” Emma said. “We’ll work something-”

“What on earth would make you think we are penniless?” Regina almost spat the words at him. “We so appreciate your food, which has made me feel a thousand times worse, and to direct us to this hovel, which is meant to be our salvation-”

“Thank you. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Emma flashed an angry look at Regina. Then gave Grex a pained smile. “Really, thank you.”

He shrugged, a surly look on his face. “Well then. I’m off to the Inn then the local, ah, den of,” he searched for the right word.

“Iniquity. I’m sure you are quite familiar with it too. Now, if you’ll excuse us we have a minor need to get the bones back in my body,” said Regina.

He growled then sauntered off ahead of them, down the road.

“God Regina, could you have been any nicer?”

“I think not. He’s alive isn’t he?” She limped forward and gripped Emma’s arm for support.

“You do know, that’s going to bruise, right?”

“Sorry Miss Swan,” Regina loosened her grip. “Shall we? The creepy little man did mention an alchemy store, hopefully reputable, with a qualified alchemist or thaumaturgist.”

“A what now?”

“Doctor Miss Swan, doctor.”

“And we are going to pay with what exactly? I don’t think they’ll take your Amex. We need allies Regina, not more people pissed at us.”

“Here,” Regina snapped. She twirled her hand, purple vapour twirled with it. When she opened her palm to Emma, there was a small velvet pouch filled with gold and silver coin.

“Your magic is back? Hundred percent?” Emma breathed a sigh of relief.

A sad smile formed on Regina’s lips. She shook her head.

“That’s just a trick. Requires little to no effort.”

Emma reached out and touched Regina’s face. The wound had split open and a tear of blood seeped out.

“No effort hey?” Emma asked rhetorically.

Regina remained silent. Emma saw her flinch.

“Come on your highness. Lets get you to the al-thing-a-ma-jig.”

“Alchemist Miss Swan,” Regina corrected. She sounded tired and withdrawn.

The store was barely wider than its rickety door, and the man that ran it was luckily a wiry, short, skinny man. His age indeterminate. He had young skin and jet black hair but to Emma there was something old about him. His piercing eyes, his yellow teeth, his knowing smile, and deep deep voice.

“Good evening,” he said. His eyes instantly rested on Regina. Insisted she sit in the only chair in the shop. A shop lined with shelving, floor to ceiling, packed with herbs and vials. He and Regina then proceeded to argue over what was best for broken bones, healing damaged ribs, and removing the gaping scar on her face. They settled on some sort of wax from a creature Emma had never heard of, drink a vial of something that smelled like feet, and an hour in the hot springs.

The man was generous enough to give Regina some of his clean outdated clothing, for an additional modest fee. Regina showed him no mercy for his kindness and haggled till the man simply gave up.

“Okay, okay, take them. And here,” he said. He handed Emma a stack of clean bandages and proceeded to instruct her, three times, on proper bandaging techniques.

“What was wrong with my bandaging?” Emma piped. “Look, they’re doing a brilliant job of keeping Regina’s bits in place.”

Both Regina and the little man turned in shock. Regina’s shock quickly turned to barely contained anger.

“Bits?! Which bits might they be?”

“The good bits, or the bad bits, just the bits that needed fixing,” Emma said, confused and flustered.

“Miss Swan-”

“Ah, dear ladies, I must ask you to leave. My store closed twenty minutes ago.” His ears pricked up. He gave a nervous glance at them and stepped forward. “Now, my wife just called me to start our dinner. I have quite the flair with spice and cooking. Remember, vial, wax, hot spring. You’ll be fine young lady. Don’t dawdle in the fog. Doesn’t seem to be good for anyone’s health.” He ushered them out. Rambling as he did.

He locked the door behind them, and flipped the ‘closed’ sign over. The light went out and left Regina and Emma standing in the cobbled street, the moonlight clouding over.

“You do have an effect on people, don’t you?” Emma surmised.


	11. Made

The owner of the Inn was not nearly as friendly as the alchemist. She was not happy to see them. She was not happy to have her drinking interrupted, nor happy about having to open her front door to let two strange women in, and chilling her with wisps of thick white fog that followed them in.

“Shut the door, shut the door,” she snapped. Her small frame, overly inflated, and not well kept, jiggled and jostled as she moved towards the front desk and away from her rocking chair, pint of frothy warm beer, and good blaze in the fireplace.

She complained about an earlier interruption, the last customer. Some kind of animal she’d prefer to not have stay, though his gold was good, so against her better judgement, she gave him the suite.

Her beady eyes assessed Regina and Emma.

“This is a reputable establishment,” she said. Her voice an unpleasant mix of drunk and supercilious. Her breath reeked.

Emma squeezed Regina’s arm.

“We are reputable people,” Regina finally said, with as much command as she was able to muster. Their clothing said otherwise. Regina clenched her teeth. Pain and exhaustion racked her body. “One night’s stay.”

“Three,” Emma corrected.

“One,” Regina whispered loudly at Emma. Her nostrils flared, her eyes and expression turned to ice, and her body tensed.

“Three please,” Emma said. In an aside to Regina, softly, she said, “We need you to heal properly. We don’t know if and when these Sinciput brothers are going to make a reappearance.”

“Nonsense.”

“Finished are you?” The innkeeper was not amused at being delayed from enjoying her beer. “I’ve got better things to do than listen to two bitches bitching.”

“Three nights please,” Emma said.

The woman’s head titled, her face twitched into a look of contempt. She nodded towards Regina. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I’m right here you gutter-”

“She’s fine.” Emma said, cutting Regina off. “Nothing sleep and some clean clothes wont fix. We just had a little trouble on the road. That’s all.”

“As long as you don’t bring trouble here,” said the woman. She didn’t seem satisfied as she continued to stare at Regina but directed her words to Emma. “She’s not contagious is she?”

Emma fought back a laugh. “No,” she said.

The woman made some low level growl, could have been words, but they were incomprehensible. Must have been an acquiescence as her following sentences were more reassuring.

“Two coins a night, upfront, includes breakfast and dinner. Six and six. Room 12. Through the door there, end of the corridor. Spring access is down a level. She’ll need a good scrubbin’ before she gets in.”

She handed Emma a heavy key.

“Little lady around the corner opens around ten.”

“That’s nice,” Emma said.

“She’s a seamstress. Get this one here, dressed. She’ll need that before walking the streets.” She gave Regina an off-handed wave, and then returned to the rocking chair and fire.

Emma pulled Regina forward.

“Hear that your regalness? You’ll need to get dressed before walking the streets,” Emma said. She arched an eyebrow then looked down at Regina when she didn’t respond.

Regina’s face had turned grey and she appeared to have stopped listening.

“Regina?” Emma opened the door, part carried Regina through and was heading towards the downstairs hot spring when the innkeeper’s voice cut through the wave of icy air that accosted them.

“Shut the door!”

Emma reluctantly obliged. She hoped that the hot springs were actually hot and their room was not the same arctic cool of the corridor. She swore. It was colder than the forest.

They struggled downstairs.

Emma was pleasantly surprised that the hot spring area was well lit with candles and a couple of wall sconces. It had two hot baths, both emitting warm steam, and a small wet area where it was clear you ladled cold water on yourself, scrubbed and soaped yourself up.

One wall was missing where the baths jutted out into the beginning of the forest floor, and along the stream. Open to the elements. Covered by a verandah.

The inn had also placed a few torches in the landscape, opposite the baths, up the slope of the mountain and into the early thick of the forest, creating quite an ethereal atmosphere. The fog seemed to hang around the lights like candy floss.

Soft rain tapped on the stream’s surface and the roof of the verandah.

She helped Regina undress, sponge bathe, then drink the vial, and apply the wax to the most damaged areas. Regina seemed to flinch at each touch from Emma. There was nothing either of them could do. Regina was too tired and sore and too much in pain to achieve the simplest of tasks.

Emma noticed Regina’s dark eyes upon her. There was curiosity and perhaps something else, perhaps admiration. A hint of attraction. The eyes clouded as quickly as they cleared, showing only a tenuous glimpse into Regina’s inner world.

Regina let out a satisfied sigh when Emma helped her into the hot spring water. Emma made sure Regina’s back was supported and she was comfortable, and facing the forest vista.

“Ooh, that does feel nice,” Emma purred. “But I’m just going to check on the room. Light the fire, that sort of thing.”

“Don’t be too long dear,” Regina said, the words and tone intimate.

Emma stepped out of the water, her clothes drenched. “Great, just great,” Emma mumbled to herself. To Regina she said, “I might be a while. Don’t go to sleep. Don’t want you drowning. Wouldn’t want that on my conscience.”

“Don’t let that get in your way,” Regina said, under her breath. “Less of an inconvenience and more of a blessing.”

“Regina,” Emma sighed.

“All I’ve done is slowed us down.” The woman was close to crying. Tears welled up.

“Please Regina, we just need you to get better. Don’t talk silly stuff like you’re a burden. We’re a team. Okay?”

Regina nodded and closed her eyes.

Emma left the woman to her own thoughts.

She had planned to check out room twelve, and she did. Briefly. It was a quaint little room, with mats on the floor, a timber verandah with not dissimilar views as the hot springs below had, and there was a double mattress and a couple of large blankets and fur to keep them warm. The small fireplace was already lit.

'Strange,' Emma thought. 'The Innkeeper must have done it. Though she didn't seem interested in five star hospitality.'

Checking out the room was not all Emma wanted to do.

It was time that she hunted the hunters. Discover where they were, and who they were. She needed a game plan that meant no more using Regina and herself as punching bags, with threats of death. Threats they intended to carry out.

The threats were honest. They wanted their blood. Regina’s blood.

Nothing else was honest. Everyone had lied. The truth wasn’t out there. It lay beneath the surface of everyone’s words, intertwined with one woman’s past. The Evil Queen. Of this Emma was certain.


	12. Respite

Emma shuddered. She regretted her decision the very second her boots hit the pavement. Every muscle pained from the fast approaching cold night air. Her wet clothes clung to her like a thousand leeches sucking all the warmth and energy from her body. And all she could think of was Regina, lying in the hot spring water, slowly healing from their horrific journey from the shoreline to the base of the mountain.

She shivered and moved across to the other side of the street. She found a dark recess to hide herself in and think. She rubbed her arms brusquely in a futile attempt to warm up.

A few townspeople scurried about, in a hurry to get to their homes, their dinners, fireplaces, and loved ones. Emma felt a pain in her heart. The absence of home and Henry almost made her sob.

“Buck up buckeroo,” she said. “At least you have Regina.” And with that she launched herself into action.

She walked a little way up the mountain, to assess the quality of the path after heavy and consistent rain, and to get an overview of the town as a whole. She kept to the path till it curved around the mountain, away from the town and into thick fog filled forest. She stepped into the bush and took a few awkward strides down. The ground was wet and slippery. She used low-lying branches to steady herself.

She found a view of the Inn, more specifically of the hot springs, and she could see the town roofs lined up neatly. Chimneys drove thick white smoke into the already foggy and cloud laden air.

She scrambled down further into the brush, away from the path. She found an uninterrupted view of Regina in the hot spring. She looked so peaceful and so very beautiful. Even with her myriad of new scars, the gash on her face the most prevalent, there was no denying the woman’s magnetism, strength and beauty, and Emma’s building attraction and need. She watched as Regina gracefully got out of the bath. Despite obvious pain and exhaustion. She towel dried herself and limped out of sight.

Wisps of fog nipped at Emma’s feet to remind her of the Sinciput brothers, and the enigmatic Grex.

She spurred herself into action again and returned to the path. She headed back down to the town. It’s layout was simple. Only a few rows of houses existed either side of the main street. Puffs of smoke lazily drifted out of chimneys, and an intoxicating smell of dinners being cooked. The smell of food made Emma’s mouth water and her stomach growl.

Candles and small lanterns flickered light inside people’s homes revealing nothing more than ordinary people doing ordinary things.

One place caught her attention. It wasn’t anyone’s home, nor was it an obvious shop.

A few men seemed to stroll in and out of the place. It was located right at the end of the street. A low hanging material waved in the doorway. A simple symbol hand drawn on its surface. The lantern beside it, one of the few outdoor ones that remained lit, had a soft haze around it. Wind chimes broke the otherwise deadly quiet that had descended on the town.

She opened the timber door and poked her head in. She was instantly greeted with the smell of stale beer, an overbearing heat, and smell of sweaty men. She didn’t have to look far to see Grex near one of the fireplaces playing some sort of dice game with three others.

People looked up at her intrusion, but quickly returned to their own activities. Which mostly consisted of drinking. Some were lucky enough to have a couple of women, groping and laughing. The women seemed compliant if a little dopey.

“No matter where you go, there’s always this place,” Emma whispered to herself. She was about to step back and exit, when a young woman tugged at her belt and proceeded to wrap her arms around Emma’s waist.

A cheeky smile surfaced on the younger woman’s lips. She had light brown matted hair, piercing intelligent blue eyes, tanned skin, and, to Emma, she also smelled faintly of lemons.

"Buy me a drink," the woman purred. The woman was subtle, her voice filled with subdued sexual undertones, though to Emma very obvious.

‘Oh she’s good,’ Emma thought, suppressing a grin.

“Not tonight,” Emma said as she tried to extricate herself. “Sorry.”

“Come on. Buy me one drink. I can make it worth your while.”

They looked at each other. Emma pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Thank you for the offer, though.”

“I’m good at what I do.” The woman leaned in close. “I can make you feel really good. Just for a few drinks and a few more coins.”

Emma grabbed the hands before they started wandering. She looked around to see if their interaction had gained attention, but it appeared no-one cared or were too busy with their own interests.

“You’re staying at the Inn, right?”

“How did you know?” Emma’s voice raised. The pressure on the woman’s wrists increased.

“Hey, no need to hurt me,” the woman said. “You pay extra for that.”

“How did you know?” Emma’s anger rose. “How did you know where we were staying?”

“Where else would you stay? Not in this place. Not your style. This is for grubs. You’re different. I can see that, I’m not blind.”

Emma released the woman’s wrists. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You’re quite jumpy aren’t you?” Emma swallowed. Perhaps she was imagining things. Grex looked engrossed in his frothy beer and dice. If he was planning anything it was to get drunk and broke. The Sinciput brothers had failed to make an appearance, despite the fog. Emma took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. The young woman in front of her took that as a yes.

“Buy us some wine. I’ll come to your room.” The whisper sounded intoxicating. She lowered her voice and then said very slowly, “Then I’ll make you come. Again and again.”

Emma put her hands up. “Don’t get me wrong. That does sound appealing. But not tonight. No, really. No.”

“Buy me a drink at least-”

“Better luck with someone else.” Emma felt a little bad in closing the door in the woman’s face and returning to the Inn alone.

She found Regina in the common room, with two others. Regina was stirring something akin to grey porridge. At Emma’s approach, her eyes brightened, and there was a slight curve of the lips into a half smile. It made Emma think, Regina was pleased to see her despite her immediate harsh words.

“Where have you been? You’ve been gone a while. And you took the room key with you. I’ve been forced to shiver in public, in a hideous damp grey rag, eat damp grey food, of dubious nutritional value, alone.”

“Sorry. Just needed to stretch my legs,” Emma lied. Regina arched an eyebrow but said nothing. She returned to stirring her grey food. She let the slop slide from her spoon and back into the bowl.

“Dinner apparently,” Regina said. “The bread is at least maggot free.”

Emma grabbed a bread roll and sat beside Regina at the long timber bench.


	13. Too Late to Come

Emma poured herself a drink. Sculled it, then poured another. It tasted like strong sweet cold tea.

“You are aware that’s alcohol, Miss Swan,” Regina said.

“God, here’s hoping,” Emma said as she took another few gulps.

“And you should probably get out of your wet clothes too.” There was an edge of concern in the other woman’s voice.

“Probably,” Emma replied. Silence lingered between them as Emma drank, nibbled on bread, and watched Regina try to swallow grey goop.

“While you were out, stretching your legs, did you see any signs of…”

Emma shook her head. “Must be just fog.”

“Perhaps,” Regina said in a quiet tone.

“Nothing’s ever just something though is it?” Emma asked. A warm fuzzy haze was slowly descended on her. It had been months since she had been tipsy.

“That makes perfect sense Miss Swan. Perhaps no more wine for you?”

“Why not? Afraid I’ll get frisky?” Emma said. Tiredness weighed her down.

“Right now I don’t think either of us would be capable of more than just sleep,” Regina said. It wasn’t the response Emma had been expecting. She looked up into Regina’s unreadable face.

“Oh? Think I’m too tired for a-”

“Quick fuck in a dodgy inn. No, I suppose that doesn’t really surprise me Miss Swan.”

“Language your royal highness!” Emma chuckled.

When they had finished all the bread and wine they could stomach, Emma realised they could both fall asleep at the table in the common room. The two other guests had left an hour before them. But the Inn Keeper remained, giving them a nasty stare every now and then.

She wasn’t subtle about wanting them to leave. She began to wipe the table down around them. With a smelly dirty cloth. As she cleared away the dishes, she stopped and drank the remains of the wine in the other guests cups. She was disappointed that Emma had finished hers, and the bottle.

“Think we’re keeping someone up,” Emma said quietly to Regina.

“Carry me to bed will you,” Regina said.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Emma quipped. Regina huffed, her good mood waning with the time. Emma lifted Regina up. “Come on. Better get you to bed your royalness.”

Regina’s face grimaced in pain. “Miss Swan, please be gentle. You have all the tenderness of a bull in a china shop.”

“You’re broken already. I’m just carrying the pieces.”

“Charming,” Regina said. Emma flinched. “Sorry,” Regina retracted. “Poor choice of words.”

“We’re both tired, need rest and food,” Emma said. Regina made a face. “Real food, and some, okay a lot, of healing.”

“A bed with a decent mattress wouldn’t go astray,” Regina said.

“I’ll see what I can whip up for us, your holiness.” Emma fumbled with the key while managing to hold Regina up. “This is us. Want me to carry you over the threshold?”

“How very quaint of you. I’d expect a coffee and a nice meal, maggot free, before any long term commitment, my dear.”

“God, you’re an expensive date.”

“You have no idea.”

Emma helped Regina onto the mattress on the floor, in the middle of the room.

“It’s clean and warm at least. An improvement on our last few exotic hotel stays, wouldn’t you say?” Emma asked.

“It’s almost nice,” Regina said as she laid down.

Emma was about to ask ‘don’t you want to at least put on some actual clothes’ when she realised Regina was asleep. Her breathing a good steady rhythm. Emma pulled one of the blankets over her, and let out a sigh.

She made a quick strategic assessment of their room. Grabbed a chair off the balcony and wedged it under the handle of the door. She also leaned over the balcony to determine how easy it might be to scale up two flights. Not impossible, but not that easy either. She locked the balcony door and went and sat beside the fire. Stoked it. Placed a large log on it.

Emma pulled off her very wet boots, and then started removing her clothes. Sitting them by the fire. She paused at her underwear.

“Oh, screw it,” she said, as she took the remainder off and draped them on the small mantel. She wrapped herself in the second blanket and slipped into the bed beside Regina.

Although her mind raced with next steps, the brothers, Grex, and Regina’s injuries, she herself, fell asleep within seconds. To the sound of Regina’s breathing, the smattering of rain on the roof, and the crackling comfort of the fire.

 

_The woman kept her back to Emma. Dressed in an impeccable black suit, healed boots, and a carefully starched white shirt underneath. Stiff white cuffs and sparkling amethyst cufflinks clearly visible._

_The ironed white collared shirt hidden by the woman’s black wavy hair that fell just over her shoulders._

_Emma approached her slowly. Till she could smell the sweet freshly washed scent of the woman’s hair. She heard the woman say her name. In a soft, low voice._

_“Emma.” A hand reached out behind her. Emma took the hand and allowed herself to be led into a wide semi-circular room lined with books. In the centre was a mahogany desk, with green leather inlay, a bankers lamp and a soft leather bound book open upon it._

_Emma glanced at the title. ‘Der Wolf und die…’ She saw it for the longest second before it was wiped from the desk by the woman in black._

_“Why are we here?” Emma asked._

_“Indeed. You sought me out. Surely you know what for?” The woman circled around her, pinning Emma between herself and the desk._

_“No reason,” Emma squeaked._

_The woman took Emma’s hands and moved them behind her, forcing them down onto the desk. The woman leaned in. Emma leaned back._

_“Oh?” the woman said. “I think you’re more than just a little curious. I’ve seen the way you look at me.” An eyebrow raised and a smirk played on her lips. She licked her lips. Opened her mouth and ran her tongue along her teeth, ending with another pass on her upper lip. “I want you. Don’t you want me?”_

_“I-” the words stuck in Emma’s throat. The eyes of the other woman replied, filled with hope and a flash of vulnerability._

_“Yes, Miss Swan?” She whispered in Emma’s ear. Emma’s brain had turned to mush. Emma felt the warm breath on her skin. Her body responded with goosebumps and a throb of pleasure between her legs. The woman straddled her._

_“I don’t think-” Emma started._

_“Don’t think Emma. I know I so want you. I want to see you with your head thrown back screaming my name in pure pure pleasure. Ecstasy written on every fibre of your being.” Emma could feel the woman’s thighs exert pressure on her legs. “I want you.”_

_The woman placed one hand behind Emma’s neck and drew her close. “I want you to always feel my lips, my fingers, on you, and in you. My essence engraved on you and in you. Your heart forever mine. Begging always for release, and only I can give it.”_

_The woman leaned in closer still. Their lips close but not quite touching. Their eyes locked. Emma could feel her heart beating fast. Her breath short._

_“Tell me, Emma, what do you like?”_

_Emma shivered._

_“I believe I could make you come,” the woman laughed, “without even touching you.”_

_“You can’t do that,” Emma managed to say, stealing a kiss. The woman pulled back, then forced Emma’s hands behind her, back onto the desk. The woman shook her head, clearly amused._

_“And you can’t do that,” she said. “Not without my permission.” She pushed her knee in between Emma’s legs. “Wider.” Then two knees._

_“Please,” Emma said. Eyes closed. She could feel the woman’s hands on her, lightly touching her breasts, moving downwards, tugging at the belt. One hand went lower, between her legs._

_“Already warm and ready,” she said. Emma moaned at the touch. Both hands released the belt, unzipped the jeans, and wriggled her hand into Emma’s moist hot centre. “Oh my. We are ready to come aren’t we. Now, tell me Emma, do you want me?”_

_“Yes,” Emma said, breathy._

_“How do you like to come? Tongue or hand?”_

_“Both.”_

_“Greedy I see.” The woman pulled Emma’s underwear down and kneeled in front of her. Her hand and fingers played with Emma’s clit. Emma’s knees trembled._

_“Not yet my dear,” she commanded. “Not till I’ve had my fill of you. Filled you.”_

_Her tongue licked at Emma’s wetness. Then it slipped inside. Emma cried out in pleasure. Her hands gripped the woman’s head. Her world reduced to the woman’s tongue playing inside her. Her eyes flicked open when the woman stopped. Emma looked down._

_“What do we say?”_

_“Please,” the cry was genuine and deep in Emma’s throat._

_The woman returned to finger play, teasing more, rubbing more._

_“Please,” Emma begged._

_“Only if you say it,” the woman said._

_“I’ll say anything. Please. Inside. Please.”_

_The woman lapped at Emma with her tongue. Penetrating as deep as she could. Her tongue curling inside her. In and out. Licking. Sucking. Biting._

_“Oh god,” cried Emma._

_“Not god dear,” said the other woman as three fingers drove deep inside her._

_“Regina!”_


	14. Healing

“Miss Swan, you really have to stop healing me this way,” Regina snapped.

“What way?” Emma stretched and yawned. Happy to finally have had a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Though mostly dream filled and arresting. A brief flare of memory coursed through her.

It was early morning and dull grey light filtered into the room. Rain and fog persisted outside, making the bed she and Regina had shared all the more cosy. Still warm. Two blankets and a soft fur made Emma purr with contentment. Then reality hit.

“Crap,” she said. They weren’t in Storybrooke, nor even on the Jolly Roger, they were in some strange land, struggling to travel across it in the hope to find Henry and the others. At the very least to try get word to them that she and Regina were alive and well. ‘Well-ish,’ Emma thought. Hopefully they’d remain that way. She made a silent prayer to Henry.

Emma didn’t want to move, but she knew she had to. There was a lot to achieve in the day. She sat up, realised she was naked, and quickly ducked back under the covers.

“Double crap.”

“Eloquent as always,” Regina quipped.

“Ah, pass me my clothes.”

“Excuse me? I’m not your maid.” She threw Emma’s underwear at her. She made no move to collect or throw anything else.

Emma tried to ignore the angry pout coming from the fireplace where Regina stood, hands on hips. Regina had dressed in the alchemist’s clothes they acquired the previous evening. She looked more akin to a lumberjack than an alchemist. Emma covered her mouth and suppressed a smile.

“Well?!” The voice had an edge to it. Emma just raised an eyebrow.

“Good morning my royal lumberjack,” Emma said in her sweetest voice. Once she had her bra on she reached out and scooped up her shirt and jeans and began a less than private dressing. Regina normally looked away. She didn’t.

Instead, Regina stepped forward and exposed her torso. She pulled up the jumper and shirt to just above her breasts, which were delightfully only partially covered by her black lace bra that had somehow managed to survive.

Emma feigned indifference, despite the shock and the flash of desire that pulsed through her. Her thoughts temporarily pushed into disarray.

Emma turned her head slightly, placed a hand out in front of her, and shielded her eyes, as if Regina was intense sunlight that glared directly down at her.

“It’s too early in the morning for that,” Emma said, half smiling, half squinting.

“Excuse me?!”

“Never would have pictured you as a flasher. Though you do seem to have a fetish for long coats-”

“I do not have a predilection or proclivity for long coats and certainly not flashing,” Regina said, her anger barely contained.

“Do you always have to have a thesaurus stuck up your arse?”

“Miss Swan!”

Emma lowered her hand. “What?!”

“Look!” Regina said, she sounded exasperated.

Emma finally looked long and hard. She tried not to laugh. “I did that?”

“Yes,” Regina said in a curt, unimpressed, tone.

“You sure that wasn’t you playing doctor with yourself?” Emma made some lewd hand gestures.

Regina’s torso was covered in distinct hand prints. Like someone had placed their hands on Regina’s smooth skin and spray painted bruises around them.

“Quite sure,” Regina said through gritted teeth. Her brown eyes turned a fiery orange.

“Well you obviously didn’t object.” The smirk played on Emma’s lips.

“I’ll have you know I tried waking you, vigorously, to no avail.”

“Didn’t try very hard, did you?”

“Miss Swan,” Regina said as she leaned in close. “Stop having wet dreams about the Dark One’s son, and taking it out on my body! I’m not him and I’m certainly not your teddy bear to squeeze at night.”

Emma blushed. It wasn’t Neal she’d dreamt of, though she didn’t correct her.

“I don’t know any teddy bear that has your cleavage-” Emma began lightly.

“Touch me again in your sleep, Miss Swan, and I’ll turn you into some petty little bug. In this place, you’ll be right at home.”

“Oh? Thought your magic wasn’t functioning at peak efficiency your holiness.”

“It’s not. But somehow I’ll find the strength to do you.”

“Do me?” Emma said holding back a cheeky grin. Regina shifted stance uncomfortably.

“Seriously? Do you only have one mode? Gutter mode.”

Emma gave Regina a ‘fake hurt’ look.

“I’ll have you know I have many modes. Gutter is just one of them when I haven’t had sex in, well, a while.” Emma’s breath caught in her throat. The woman in front of her was so beautiful. Emma’s heart melted a little in that moment.

Her eyes moved up Regina’s body, rested briefly on the woman’s breasts, hoping but failing to see nipple. She then looked longingly at Regina’s fingers, and carefully manicured nails. Her eyes moved up Regina’s neck, where Emma could see a nerve pulsing intensely, along the jaw line, across to tempting dark pink lips, slightly parted, and finally settled on her deep brown eyes.

She matched Regina’s stare. Neither spoke.

Regina’s fierceness wavered and she looked away. With a sudden attack of modesty, she pulled her clothes back down, covering herself up. She tugged at the edges trying to straighten the unmovable wrinkles.

“I’m sorry,” Emma said, in a half-hearted attempt to placate her. “I didn’t think-”

“Clearly! Do you ever think?”

Emma sighed and shrugged.

“At least you’re feeling better,” Emma said. “Maybe we can get going tomorrow. If you’re up to it.”

“Yes,” Regina replied quickly. She appeared relieved at the change of topic. Her hands stopped making fists. “The sooner the better.”

“Breakfast first, then we’ll see if we can pick up some supplies. Maybe ask about town, see if anyone knows anything.”

A few seconds of awkward silence ensued.

“Can we buy breakfast at least? Rather than eat that woman’s horrendous attempt at cooking. Her culinary prowess is even less proficient than that of your own Miss Swan.” Regina made a face. “What she serves, it doesn’t even vaguely resemble food, and I have no doubt its nutritional value is dubious at best, and experimental food poisoning at worst.”

“Sure you want to eat out now? Sounds like you really love the stuff.”

“If you have a penchant for eating wall paper paste. Loved it Miss Swan. So much so, I’ll just watch you try and eat it.”

“On second thoughts, brekkie out does sounds good.”

“A good decision Miss Swan and lucky for us both.”

“Yes…”

“It’s way after six.”

“How on earth do you know that?”

“While you were in the throws of something I don’t want to know about,” Regina began.

“Magical dreams, apparently,” Emma interrupted.

Regina completely ignored Emma. “I went down and asked our friendly Inn Keeper. She informed me of our incredible misfortune at being two hours too late for her cuisine.”

“Very lucky.” Emma gave Regina a big grin and her heart flipped when Regina returned the smile.


	15. Touchy

The corridor was cold and dark, but light enough to see the young woman Emma had met last night exiting Grex’s suite. She was barely dressed. She carried more clothes than she wore.

She looked directly at Emma, then Regina, and back to Emma. She winked at Emma and gave her broad grin.

“Morning sunshine. Good to see you again. I’m available for you, anytime.” She pursed her lips. “I’d be even willing to include your friend here, for a modest additional fee.” She turned her back on them both, and walked away fast. She ducked down the staircase towards the hot springs.

“Friend of yours?” Regina asked, as she limped forward, and leaned heavily on her walking stick.

“Just someone I bumped into last night.”

“Really now Miss Swan? Is that all you did, ‘bump’?”

Emma blushed. “Just what exactly are you implying?” The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

“No wonder your dreams have been vivid. First the Dark One’s son, now some local whore. Really Miss Swan you are quite perverted.” Regina’s face constricted in disgust.

Emma turned a shade of purple. “It’s none of your bloody business what I do. Not that I did anything. And its sure as heck none of your business what I dream, or who I dream about. Jesus Regina, just back off.”

“Touchy subject, dear?” The scar on Regina’s lip twitched. Emma rolled her eyes. Her anger flared. She was about to pin Regina to the wall. Her hand was on Regina’s chest when a door slammed shut further down the corridor.

They both turned to watch Grex lock his door, fully attired in his hunting gear.

“Leaving so soon?” Emma asked.

“Ladies. Morning.” Grex beamed at them both. “Another lovely day.”

“If you call more rain and more fog, lovely. Then, yes, it’s a sheer delight,” Regina said. She turned her attention back to Emma. “Remove your hand.”

Emma retracted the hand quickly.

“You’re looking better,” Grex commented to Regina. An enigmatic look crept over his face.

“And you’re very chipper for this hour,” Emma said.

“Had a bit of Mary Mary last night.” His face fell. “Heard she would’ve preferred you. Actually, she mentioned you a fair bit. You obviously made quite the impression.”

Emma rubbed the back of her neck. The morning was turning out to be a series of embarrassments.

“Oh?” Regina’s voice piped up.

“Where are you headed?” Emma asked trying to steer the conversation away from her. “Off for a day in the woods?”

“Yes Miss Emma. Off to hunt. Hunt for some real food.”

“So, you’re coming back here then?”

“Oh yes. I have business in Evanaide.”

“Really?”

“Really.” His eyes darted to Regina. His smile turned into a leer. “And a little piece of advice. Don’t eat Hubbard’s fare. It’ll kill you.”

“I think we’ve noticed,” Regina said.

“Thought I might bring something large and tasty home for tonight’s evening meal. I’ll save you some crackling, if you like?” His yellow eyes glowed.

“No. I think we’ve had quite enough of food poi-” Emma nudged Regina in the ribs. She coughed a bit in pain, and said stiffly, “Thank you, though.”

“We appreciate the offer,” Emma said.

“I’m not coming back without something. I’m sure you’ll change your minds once you see it.” He turned and walked off.

“Why do you have to be obsequious all the time?” Regina flared.

“Why do you?!”

“I’m never obsequious.”

“I’m sure you are. If I knew what the fuck the word meant,” Emma said the last part under her breath. “I don’t know. I don’t trust him. But I don’t want him to know that I don’t trust him. Okay? I just get this feeling off of him. Something ‘wrong’.”

“And being obsequious is your way of, what, fooling him into a false sense of security?”

“Drop the dictionary Regina. Speak English.”

“I am!” She smirked at Emma. “Let me dumb it down for you dear. I thought you wanted us all to be friends, give fake sentiments like ‘lovely to see you’ and ‘have a nice day’, hold hands, and-”

“What I actually said was we need allies not more people pissed at us.”

“You’re right. That does sound more like you. Though with a little less swearing than usual.”

They stepped out onto the cold wet pavement. Emma noticed Grex ferret away into the fog and forest. It was the same direction they’d arrived from.

Fog and damp permeated everywhere. Both women drew in breath sharply. Their exhale formed in front of them. Frost had caked on the windows and the bottom of doors.

“Yes, another lovely lovely day,” Regina snarled. “Would you like me to use some other obsequious colloquialisms like ‘I so love your company, you’re so easy on my eyes, let’s take a lovely morning skip through the meadow, sing and whistle with delight, then chat amiably in the long grass with warm warm sun on our backs?’”

“Regina. God. If that’s you trying to impersonate me, you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you. You know I’m more likely to say ‘let’s fuck till the stars come out’.” She said it to shock her. She bit.

“Hopeless romantic,” Regina said facetiously. She hid a blush.

“Bitch,” Emma snapped.

“Perhaps we should eat before the stars do in fact come out?”

They stopped at the bakery, which was little more than someone’s front room in their house filled with freshly baked bread and a handful of pastries. The room was hot and sweet smelling.

The husband and wife team seemed jovial enough to fellow locals but favoured Emma and Regina with indifference. Despite Regina being overtly pleasant.

“You’re doing that just to aggravate me? Aren’t you?” Emma asked in an aside.

“Whatever do you mean dear? I’m always this nice.”

“If you keep it up, I’m going to think you’ve been possessed.”

They received a similiar cold greeting at all the other shops, with no more than icy stares and non-committal words exchanged. No one knew anything. No one wanted to help them. The cobbler and tannery would only serve them after gold coins were offered.

“It’ll be ready by tomorrow morn,” the cobbler said to Emma.

“Good,” Regina said. She sounded relieved.

“Where you headed? Getting late in the season to travel across Mt Andromeda.” He examined what was left of Regina’s boot.

“We’re going to try.” Emma gave a half reassuring smile to Regina.

“Animals preparing for the long winter, they be. You’d make perfect meals for many of the wild boar and beasts. Though bony you are. Maybe too bony,” he said. His words came out like he was distracted.

“We’re not helpless,” Regina said.

“Perhaps not. But you aren’t rangers either. Suggest you get a guide at least. You’ll find one at the Horse n Fowl. Black Rock Pass is often closed this time of year. Taken too many lives it has.”

“God, he talks like Yoda,” Emma whispered to Regina.

“Not as cute,” Regina replied in all seriousness.

“We’ll be okay,” Emma said, to the cobbler, as they motioned to leave.

“There’s a saying in Evanaide, ‘fast feet, early dinner’.” He didn’t elaborate. Emma pretended to understand and gave him a nod and a pursed-lips look.

As they exited, the bell above the door, rang. Happy to have them leave.

They looked at the next shop. It appeared closed. The material that hung in its doorway was torn and its symbol faded beyond recognition.

Emma peered into the vacant-eyed window. It was a butcher shop. Or used to be. Yellow stained blinds were drawn, and what Emma could see between the gaps was a large butcher’s block, with old dark stains upon it. The floor was dirty, covered in sawdust, and dust. Scraps of paper strewn across it. There was a door at the back, half open. No matter how much Emma strained to see more, all she could manage to see was a few shelves, mostly empty. Some held disused equipment.

“Closed for some time now.” Mary Mary looked over Emma’s shoulder. Emma jumped. Regina just stood back and smiled to herself. At least the woman was dressed.

“Most of us don’t eat meat anymore. Besides, the owners just upped and left, or so I’m told.”

“We wanted some food supplies for our journey north,” Emma informed Mary Mary. Emma shifted feet, uncomfortable at the stare Regina gave her.

“You’ll have to make do with dried fruit and pickled vege. The bread is good, but it wont last very long. Though in this weather it might last a little longer on the road.”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” Emma said.

“Happy to help.”

“And what will that cost us?” Regina snapped.

“That one’s free,” Mary Mary replied. A slow smile appeared on her lips. She said to Emma, “I can see why you like her. She’s got good spirit.”

“Excuse me? I’m not invisible,” Regina said.

“I could be so lucky,” Emma quipped.

“Perhaps I’ll see you both, later?” Mary Mary said. There it was. The smooth sexual voice. Emma just raised an eyebrow. Though Regina looked affronted.

“Improbable,” she said.

“Definitely,” Emma said at the same time. They looked at each other as Mary Mary skipped off with a wave.

“Don’t even think it,” Regina warned.

“Well-” Emma realised after a difficult day of obstinate townsfolk and cryptic responses, the only person who showed any warmth and willingness to talk was Mary Mary.

“We are not going there,” Regina stated firmly at the unstated suggestion.

“Look, we’ve had no luck anywhere else, with anyone else. Mary Mary at least talks to us. And ‘that place’ as you call it, well they live on rumour and gossip.”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Regina asked rhetorically.

“We buy a few drinks, get a few of them drunk, or at least chatty. And they’ll be putty in our hands.”

“As long as your hands don’t wander Miss Swan.”

Emma chuckled. “Is that jealousy I hear your highness?”

“Hardly! I just feel now is not the right time for you to satiate-”

“Get jiggy with it?” Emma’s smile grew.

“Get entangled in the low life of this,” Regina searched for the right word, “hovel. You don’t seem to have a good track record in that regard.”

“And you do?” The smile faded somewhat on Emma’s face.

“Of course.”

“At least my ‘loves’ don’t have a habit of ending up dead.”

“True love is not likely to touch me twice in one life,” Regina said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“You didn’t ask a question. I’m simply stating the truth-”

“Oh? Something else you don’t have a good track record for,” Emma’s smile was replaced with a grimace. They stood inches apart. Faces squared off.

“We are not going to any den tonight to satisfy your malignant sexual urges,” Regina growled.

“Do as I say, not as I do?”

“Excuse me? You, do as I say, or even as I do? Huh!”

“It’d be a cold day in hell I’ll ever do either. I’m not going to roll over and play little miss submissive.”

“At least we agree on that point. You - submissive? Next minute you’ll be telling me you’re demure. You have all the art and form of a deaf, dumb and blind dinosaur.”

“Now wait a minute-”

“What a false sense of self you have. You are impudent, indecorous, shameless. With absolutely no sense of good taste or intelligence.”

Emma was stunned. “I think you’ve said enough.”

“I’ve just gotten started. You think you show any sense, or propriety, when you continue to pine after the man who put you in jail, with child. Basically, the means of your ruin. Pine away Miss Swan. Pine away.”

“What?! In your dreams!” Emma’s voice cracked.

“No, in your dreams.”

Emma lost sight of reason. She leaned forward, and trapped Regina against the butcher’s window.

She said, with barely controlled rage, “I don’t dream of Neal. Not that it’s any of your fuckin’ business. I dream of,” she paused, saying the last part like it was pure poison, “you.”

Both women looked stunned at Emma’s outburst. Emma pushed herself off Regina and pretended she didn’t just say what she just said. “I’m going for a walk. Get some fresh air.”

Regina was speechless.

“And you better keep up with me tomorrow. I’m not carrying your sorry arse any more.”

“I do not need your assistance. Carry me again and your life will be in danger,” Regina said. But the words were not said with anger or menace, they were deflated, and mechanical.

“Yes. From you falling over your own shadow.”

“I will only warn you once Miss Swan,” Regina said, still distracted.

“No need. You can climb the bloody mountain on your hands and knees for all I care.” Emma stormed off down the street. Regina didn’t move.


	16. Horse n Fowl

“We should go together Miss Swan.”

Emma glanced up to see Regina looming over her, hands on hips, looking authoritative, despite the attire. Emma hadn’t heard her enter the room, and she had no idea how long Regina had been standing there listening to her swear, and watching her packing and repacking the same items in their small pack. She was still angry at Regina, and herself.

“Why?” Emma grumbled. “So you can keep an eye on me?”

“No Miss Swan, I trust you enough to be able to look after yourself, just. I thought I might be of some use if I came with you,” Regina said.

“I doubt it. Low lifes remember? The place will be filled with them. Including the deaf dumb and blind dinosaur. Who, you’ll be reassured to know, does not plan on sleeping with any of the whores, ever. Though, maybe I should reconsider, get all those malignant sexual urges out of my system.”

Regina shifted uncomfortably. Awkward silence lingered between them.

“Would an apology help Miss Swan?”

“I don’t know, would it?”

“I,” Regina paused, searching for the right words, “am sorry Miss Swan, Emma. About earlier. I didn’t mean to lose my temper like that. Just sometimes I find you very infuriating.”

“Join the club.” Emma searched Regina’s face and was a little surprised to see she had puffy eyes and appeared genuinely sorry. She softened a little. “We’re both a bit on edge lately. Let’s forget it ever happened, can we? Does that meet with your majesty’s approval?” Regina didn’t nod, but she didn’t shake her head either. “Hell, we’ve been living in each others pockets for too long now, easy for things to get a little ‘strained’ between us. Apology accepted.”

“So I can come with you to the…”

“Horse n Fowl, yes, ‘suppose so.” Emma thought about it for a second. “Sure you’re up to it though? It’s been a long day. And tomorrow is going to be a lot harder and longer.”

“Afraid I’m going to cramp your style?” Emma rolled her eyes.

“No. Maybe. Look, your ankle and leg still aren’t good. We’ve a lot of walking ahead of us. Maybe just rest instead?”

“I managed today, didn’t I?”

“On flat land with plenty of breaks,” Emma said. “As for your breathing. I can see the pain every time you take more than a little breath.”

“And that’s not going to change anytime soon, unless you plan on some more dreams about-,” Regina stopped herself. “More dreams,” she said in a low voice.

“They’re just dreams Regina, don’t read anything into them,” Emma lied. “I’ll keep my malignant sexual urges to myself in future.”

Regina looked hurt at the comment but instead gave a tart retort, “You do that. Just be careful what you do dream Miss Swan. Dreams can get you killed in your sleep.”

“After today, your royalness, if I dream about you ever again. I’ll save you the trouble. I’ll kill myself.” Emma stood up and ushered Regina out of their room and to the local.

#

 

When they entered the ‘Horse n Fowl’ Emma held back a smile as she noticed Regina’s whole body recoiled from the affront to the senses. Her nose wrinkled, eyes narrowed, and lips curled.

“Forward your highness,” Emma said.

Regina gave a little cough in disgust. “Touch nothing,” she whispered to Emma.

The main room was filled with mostly men and a couple of women. The only light came from the fireplace and wall sconces, making the room dark and musky.

Some of the men looked up from their beer and eyed them as they approached the bar. Unfriendly and calculating.

It took minutes before the barman could be bothered to stop leaning on the damp, sticky bar and strolled over to their position. He said nothing but lifted his head in a half nod. His lack of cleanliness did nothing to reassure Regina. It wasn’t until Emma patted the bar stool next to her and gave her a half-hearted look of annoyance, before Regina relented and sat down.

“Beer thanks,” Emma said. Emma and the barkeep both turned towards Regina.

“Do I have to?” she asked in an aside to Emma. Emma just rolled her eyes, pouted, and gave an open handed gesture towards the barkeep.

“Very well,” Regina said through gritted teeth. “Do you have cider?”

He poured Emma a murky dark brown beer, and Regina a cloudy lighter brown substance, with a tinge of yellow in it.

“Delightful,” Regina said. She scowled.

“Thanks.” Emma turned to Regina with the stoneware beer mug held high. “Cheers.”

“Really?” They clinked mugs. Regina took a sip of the cider and almost spat it out.

“Swallow,” Emma said softly. Regina reluctantly gulped the liquid down.

“Oh god, that’s awful,” Regina said and half gagged.

Emma smiled at the barkeep, flashed an angry look at Regina, and took another swig of her beer. Her drink was weak and watery but palatable.

“Lovely, thanks,” she lied. The barkeep grumbled something and walked off to slouch over another part of the bar. His dirty rag in a perpetual motion of rubbing the bar’s surface. Leaving stains and swill behind in its wake.

Regina leaned in and whispered in Emma’s ear. “What’s the game plan?”

“We’re doing it.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ll have a few drinks. Mingle.”

“Mingle?” Regina sounded horrified.

“Mingle,” Emma said firmly. “Maybe even get the barkeep to warm up a little-”

“Now, that I can do,” Regina said as she put her palm upwards like she was about to attempt casting a fire spell. Emma grabbed her hand and pinned it to the bar.

“Funny,” Emma said, not amused.

“Just like your detailed, well thought out plan. Now, please let go of my hand.” Regina stretched her fingers then re-clasped the mug and took a few more gulps of the drink. “It’s not that unpleasant after the initial shock.”

“Drink slower, or we’ll have to start budgeting soon,” Emma said.

“Budget? Hardly dear. The pouch will automatically refill on empty.”

“Oh? Cool.”

A short, wide man leaned in over Regina. He had unkempt hair and missing teeth. Emma could smell him too.

“The weather is changing, hey girls?” Emma wanted to tell Regina not to react too much at being called a ‘girl’. But she seemed to ignore the man’s derogatory address.

“Sunshine, finally,” Regina said. She even managed to not flinch at the man’s proximity.

“Sun? Nah. Storm season’s upon us. Lightning will strike,” he said. “You heading up the Drom?”

“The what?” Regina questioned.

“Drom. The big mountain.”

Emma nodded.

“Only fools and desperate animals head up it this time of year.”

“Well we’re neither,” Regina said.

“Sort of,” Emma qualified. “Don’t suppose any fools, animals, or others have passed this way and headed up the mountain?”

“Nah. No-one of late. The last party was a month ago before the prickling of the fog hunt began.”

“You know the Sinciput brothers?” Regina sat upright and tried looking at the man’s eyes.

“Who?” The man looked confused.

“Never mind.”

“So, how much you charge girlies?” He asked. Regina growled. “Is there a two-fer-one deal?”

“Sir,” Regina began, her eyes clouded over.

“Regina,” Emma warned. To the man she said, “We’re just travellers, passing through town. Nothing more.”

The man hobbled away to one of the empty tables, shaking his head and saying ‘shame’, ‘shame’.

“Okay Miss Swan, we’ve mingled. Can we go now?” Regina shifted uncomfortably.

Emma narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She spun around on the bar stool and surveyed the room. She was about to get up and move over to the fireplace, where some men were gambling and chatting, when a familiar face approached them.

“Hello ladies,” said Grex. His honey voice tainted with too much alcohol. “You’re not following me are you my lovelies?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Regina said.

“Your hunting a bust?” Emma asked. He gave her a quizzical look. “You didn’t catch anything?”

“Quite the opposite,” he gave them both a toothy grin. He almost spilt his beer on Regina’s lap. “I’m celebrating.”

“Managed to kill a mosquito did we?” Regina raised an eyebrow.

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “I did say I’d be happy to share. The offer is still open my petals.”

“No thanks Grex, we’re good,” Emma reassured him.

He mumbled something under his breath. His eyes never strayed from Regina. “Still got all your body parts I see.”

“No thanks to you.”

“True.” At the change in Regina’s facial expression, he said, “Aww don’t be like that. You and I could be good friends. Let’s kiss and make up.” He placed his arm around her shoulder. She flinched.

“Remove your arm. Now.” Her voice was low and dark. Her eyes turned cold. He did as he was told, looked hurt, but said nothing.

“So, what ya catch? Is it cooking?” Emma indicated towards the fireplace.

“Nah. Marinating. You should celebrate too,” he said, half-heartedly.

“Why, you leaving?” Regina quipped.

“Look, it’s not that we don’t appreciate-” Emma started to say.

“No, we don’t,” Regina interrupted.

“Appreciate all your help,” Emma flashed Regina another angry glare, “and offers. But really we’re okay. Thanks, again.”

The door of the Horse n Fowl flew open and two men and Mary Mary rushed in. They brought wisps of early evening fog, rain, wrapped in a chill wind. The door slammed shut behind them. Emma stood up.

“Just going to have a friendly chat with her,” Emma said to Regina, her voice trailed off. She looked around, Grex had disappeared. “God, he’s quick. Did you see where he went?”

Regina shook her head. “Does it matter?”

Emma chuckled. “Well, no, not really. Keep your eyes and ears peeled. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Need help?” Regina offered.

“No, no. No need for good cop, bad cop. I’m not going to interrogate her, just talk.” She gave Regina a wink, and walked off, leaving her alone at the bar.


	17. Drink Up

“Yeah? Really? I’ll tell Regina. She’s more likely to identify it than me. Hell, I’m really good at ending up in poison ivy, not-so-great at the finding edible plant things.”

“Poison ivy?”

“Something where we’re from. Bad if you’re allergic.”

“Where are you from?”

Emma raised an eyebrow, sighed, then gave the woman a frown. “Long way from here.”

“I gathered that much.” Mary Mary smiled sympathetically. “Look, if you want to stop by before you leave, I’m happy to stock up your herbal supplies, even add a few of my choice vegetables.”

“Okay, thanks, that’d be great.”

“But you do know, this time of year, the mountain is treacherous. You would be better waiting out the storm season. Only a few locals brave it, as you know doubt have heard from anyone willing to talk.”

“Even so, we’re still going.”

Mary Mary shrugged.

Emma sipped her drink and looked briefly around the room. It was hot and cramped and dark. The candles on tables, wall sconces, and the crackling fire, did nothing to dispel the gloom. She noticed men would take furtive glances at her and or Regina and quickly return comatosed, spell bound, to their beers. A few rowdy men stood by the fire sharing tales of animals and hunting, others had cleared a table and chairs and were playing a dice game on the dusty stone floor. Emma heard a few squeals of women being squeezed in all the wrong places. The two burly men that came in with Mary Mary earlier were singing a crude song about what mountain folk really get up to. No-one seemed to mind or care, except for her and Regina’s presence.

“I get the feeling people aren’t used to strangers around here,” Emma commented.

“We get a few hunters in the warmer months, and the occasional folk heading over the mountain. That’s why Hubbard kept the Inn after her husband went missing. A lot of people went missing.”

“Oh?”

“Twenty five years ago. Back then this place used to thrive on visitors from all around. All coming to see if the springs really held healing properties.”

“Do they?” Emma asked.

“No more than clean air and crystal clear alpine water. Evanaide is a little piece of paradise. Our paradise. We’ve grown to become protective of it.”

“It’s certainly very beautiful.”

“You and your friend.” She motioned at Regina at the bar. “What do you call her?”

“Regina.”

“You and Regina should stay. You’d like it here.”

“We can’t, we really can’t.”

“Fast feet, early dinner,” Mary Mary said.

“Yeah, someone else said that to us today. What’s it mean?”

Mary Mary laughed. “Who said that? The Bakers?”

“Cobbler.”

“He would. He’s an old bastard. I think it used to mean something like ‘keen to leave us, keen to die’.”

“That’s nice and macabre.” Emma kept the worry off her face. She gulped down a more direct retort.

“Now it just means more like ‘don’t be a stranger’.”

“Yeah? Sure ‘bout that? Doesn’t sound like it.”

Mary Mary’s sharp eyes narrowed with intelligence and something else. Something Emma found enigmatic, curious. “Well, that’s what I mean. Keen to come to our village, we’re keen to put you,” she corrected herself, “keen to have you for dinner.”

Emma gave her a closed lip smile.

“Is your friend alright?” Mary Mary pointed down the bar to where Regina sat, who appeared strangely calm next to Grex. They looked like they had shared a number of beverages, with a long line of mugs in front of them.

“Hell, he just can’t take a hint can he.” Emma sighed.

“She doesn’t look bothered at his presence,” Mary Mary observed.

“Ah, don’t know.”

“Does she like him?”

“Not unless she’s done a three sixty in the last twenty mins. The nicest thing she said about him was ‘he’s a ghastly little man’.”

“I wouldn’t trust him.”

“No, no I don’t. Neither does she.” To Emma, something was definitely wrong. Regina and Grex were sitting and appeared to be chatting together. He was leaning in, intensely talking to her. As for Regina’s body language, it was all wrong. She wasn’t moving or responding in her usual grumpy, supercilious way. She seemed, relaxed, too relaxed.

“Actually, I think she might have had too much of our local cider,” Mary Mary said with a laugh and a nudge. “She’s drunk.”

“Looks like it, hey,” Emma agreed, a slow smile creeping onto her lips. “That was my plan tonight.”

“Oh?” Mary Mary said hopefully.

Emma’s smile faded into a grimace when she saw Grex’s hands start to wander. One on Regina’s thigh and one loosely on her shoulder, edging towards a breast.

“Trouble,” Mary Mary warned.

“Yeah,” Emma said. She stood up and walked over to the pair. Her hands clenched and her mind flooded with thoughts of the knife strapped to her leg.

“Can we help you?” Emma enunciated slowly, deadly, eyes fixed on Grex.

Regina turned and greeted Emma with hopeful eyes and a wide grin.

“Mills here wanted to buy another round, and I was just telling her I think we’ve both had enough. We should slow down.” His breath reeked of alcohol.

“Should not,” Regina piped as she swayed precariously on the stool. Emma steadied her.

“Just doing my duty as a concerned friend,” Grex said.

“Friend,” Regina said. She patted his shoulder. Emma ignored her.

“What’s her thighs and breasts got to do with your good Samaritan act? Showing her what ‘might’ happen?”

“Thighs and breasts are the best part of any animal,” he said. Then he saw Emma’s face. “Aww. Joke. Bad one. Sorry. Sorry. I was warning Mills here that the local cider is fer locals. Strong strong stuff. We should go back to drinking only the beer. The cider, well, once it kicks in, it does, um, does tend to make one less capable, more malleable. And I think it’s kicking in.” He waved his hands in front of Regina’s eyes to show Emma her state of intoxication. “Putty in the wrong hands. Bacon fodder in others,” he said, under his breath.

“Stop,” Regina said. She ineffectually swatted his hands away.

“And easier prey for fuck-wits like you? Now remove your hands off her you drunk piece of shit, or I’ll be removing them from you, permanently,” Emma threatened. Regina was startled and looked down at her hands with curiosity and worry.

“Not you Regina,” Emma said softly. One hand on Regina’s shoulder, her other hand moved to the clasp the knife.

“Careful,” Mary Mary whispered. Emma almost turned on Mary Mary but decided to heed her warning.

“Look, no harm done. I was just saying hello, she had no objections,” Grex said, fawning.

“I did so object,” Regina said weakly.

“Go creep out someone else gutter boy. Better yet, fuck off,” Emma spat.

All of them were surprised when the barkeep stormed over with an axe in one hand. His voice boomed, “Take your troubles, outside. I just had all the chairs repaired.”

“Just a little misunderstanding, my friend,” Grex said.

“I’m not your friend,” grumbled the barkeep, at the same time Emma said, “little?!”

“To hell with it.” Emma grabbed his collar and pulled him off the stool. “The only thing little is that thing between your legs and it’s one lonely brain cell it contains. Come anywhere near us ever again and I’ll relocate all your body parts. Capiche?”

He nodded sharply, extricated himself from Emma’s grip and readied himself for fight or flight.

“No fighting!” Roared the barkeep. The whole room stopped. Paused. Waiting for something to happen. A few chairs scraped back on the stone floor.

The barkeep moved closer to them. His face lined with impatience and anger. After a brief word with Mary Mary he turned to Emma and the others.

“You! Out!” He yelled.

Emma was about to object when she realised he was directing his anger purely at Grex. Grex glanced around the room for support, but all he saw was locals upset at having their reveries interrupted.

He took the hint and backed off. He slunk out, leaving the bar without another word. Emma noted there was a strange look on his face that made her shiver. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down.

The barkeep put down his axe and pushed across two mugs filled to the brim with more alcohol. Sticky brown liquid spilt in front of them.

“On the house,” he grumbled and walked off.

“You two okay?” Mary Mary asked, standing right beside Emma.

“Urm fin,” Regina said.

“I can tell,” Emma said. “Hell Regina, how many drinks have you had?”

Regina shrugged, thought for a moment, then held up two fingers.

“And all these other mugs, decoration only? Collected them for fun, did we?”

“No,” Regina said.

“Great, just great. Thought you could hold your liquor Regina.” Emma sighed. Her own emotional strength waned.

Regina sipped from the fresh mug. “Tastes funny. Both tasted funny.” She gestured at the mugs, and hit a few by accident. “’Specially this one. Very funny.” She sniffed, then drank more from the mug in question.

“Hilarious,” Emma said. “Yep Regina, you’re drunk alright.” Emma extricated Regina’s fingers from the mug and slid it down the bar towards Mary Mary.

“Hey Miss Swemma, I’ll have you know I am not drunk. Couldn’t possibly be drunk.”

“Oh really?”

“Only had two,” Regina said. She looked at all the mugs lined up. “Two, I’m sure. Maybe, maybe three.”

“Come on,” Emma lifted Regina to her feet. “Better get you home.”

“Home?” Regina’s voice was thick with emotion.

“The Inn.”

Regina’s face dropped momentarily, and to Emma’s surprise, broke out into a beautiful smile. She wrapped her arms around Emma’s neck.

“You really dream about me?” Regina asked Emma. “You’re pretty.”

“Your shit faced.”

“Miss Swan, I’ll have you know I can look after myself.” Regina hiccupped. “I was dealing with the matter when you decided to play macho muscular hero. What fine muscles you have my dear.” Regina poked at Emma’s arm muscles.

“How were you dealing with it, Regina? By letting him assault you?”

“No,” Regina sounded mortified. “I just… ah… couldn’t think straight, move.”

Emma noticed Regina’s face go pale. Her eyes rolled back like she was going to pass out.

“Regina? You okay?” Emma held Regina up.

“Cider a liddle stronger then expected,” Regina slurred.

“Water,” Emma ordered. The barkeep ignored her.

“You’ll have to get it yourself from the well outside,” Mary Mary informed her.

“God Regina. Just, just,” Emma let out a small frustrated cry. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

Regina replied with hurt eyes.

“Really? Come on Regina we’re going for a walk-” Emma started to say, taking Regina by the arm. Regina twisted away.

“Again? Our legs are surely stretched enough dear,” Regina said with indignation. “Yours especially.” She leaned over and examined Emma’s legs.

“Up you get, we’re leaving.”

“No no no. I haven’t finished mingling. Haven’t chatted with your Mary Horse Lazy.”

“Mary Mary. And yeah you’ve mingled enough.”

“Mary Mary will see you tomorrow morning Regina,” Mary Mary reassured.

“We’re leaving,” Emma said.

“Then drop me off at the hot hot,” Regina went in for a peck on Emma’s neck, “springs.”

“Down girl,” Emma said as she pushed Regina’s head away.

“Hot springs for some peas and quiet.” Regina corrected herself, “peace and quiet.”

“Happy to,” Emma snapped, harsher than she meant to.

“While you stredge, stretch our legs, maybe stretch your brain cells too.” Regina managed to tap Emma’s forehead.

Mary Mary laughed.

“You two argue like a married couple,” she said. Emma and Regina looked outraged. Mary Mary put both hands in the air and said a mock ‘sorry’.

“’Scuse me, I’m right here,” Regina said, giving Mary Mary a death stare.

“Oh we know,” Emma said.

“Look sweetie, cider isn’t for everyone,” Mary Mary said.

“I don’t talk to horses, whores.” Regina turned to Emma. “Told you the din of equity was not going to illicit fruit.”

Emma and Mary Mary looked at each other like Regina had lost her mind.

“Am I speaking English?”

“No,” Emma said curtly.

“Need help?” Mary Mary asked Emma.

“It’s alright, I’ve got her. Why is it I always end up carrying you?”

Emma, half carrying Regina, left the Horse n Fowl. They stood at its entrance. The large timber door closed behind them.

Cold fresh air stung their faces. The rain hadn’t eased, pelting down. Steady and unrelenting. The street pavers were dark and slippery with water spilling out of crevices and potholes. Shop lanterns waved in the wind. Lightning flashed through the sky with the grumble of distant thunder. And thick pools of fog clung to the whole town, shrouding it in an ominous veil.

Regina shivered from the change in temperature. Emma rubbed the woman’s arms to try and warm her.

“I’d say let’s run, but that’s not going to happen with your leg hey?”

“Unless you dream again,” Regina whispered softly, pulling Emma into an embrace.

“Regina,” Emma admonished, gently pulling away.

“Emma, please.” Regina held firm, but her strength wasn’t there. “Please,” she said. Her voice filled with so much emotion. Her eyes moist and intense.

She took Emma’s face in both hands and drew her into a kiss. Emma’s resistance soon wavered as she opened her mouth to Regina’s warm insistence. Lips melded. Ever so soft, sweet and delicious. Regina forced Emma to open her mouth even wider. Her tongue deep into Emma’s throat. Emma yielded. Felt her whole body tingle. Between her legs pulsed.

Their tongues intertwined as they both melted into the long kiss. Emma’s heartbeat and breathing quickened. The slow building of warmth through her body soon turned into a hunger, as desire coursed through her. The outside world vanished and all of Emma’s senses were spell-bound by Regina. She wrapped an arm around Regina’s waist and drew her closer. She didn’t want to breath in anything but Regina. She could feel Regina’s hands wandering. They’d managed to lift her tattered white top, found skin, and sent shivers through her as Regina touched her lightly along her back and waist. Both hands then tucked down into the back of her jeans and squeezed then jerked her closer still. Loins touched. Regina’s knee intervened and pulled Emma’s legs apart. A moan escaped Emma’s lips. Emma moved herself to sit hard on the woman’s knee, rocking, feeling the friction.

Then she felt Regina pull away, not to far but enough to force her to flick open her eyes and search the deep dark pools of Regina’s eyes. She didn’t have to search long. Her desire was met with the same need in Regina’s.

“You want this, don’t you?” Regina asked. Her voice as deep and brooding as her eyes. Filled with sex and longing.

“Yes,” Emma said through short breaths. “Do you?”

“I- Yes,” Regina stammered. She went in for another kiss, but Emma stopped her. She took both Regina’s hands in hers and held them in front of her.

“But you’re drunk Regina. Really really drunk. It’d be wrong-”

“For once in your life Miss Swan, do something you’re not meant to do.” The words stung as the cold air did.

“Regina,” Emma said softly. “I think we better take you home.”

“Tell me about your dreams. Miss Swan. Emma.” Regina looked longingly into Emma’s eyes. The intensity made Emma look away. “You are so beautiful. So compelling. So everything.”

“Regina, I just can’t. Not like this.” A smile flickered on Emma’s lips. “You’d never forgive me. Ever.”

“I would Miss Swan. I want this. I want you.” Regina twisted out of Emma’s hold and had to steady herself against the wall. She looked close to collapse. “I’m not that drunk. I’m not. Just can’t seem to take charge of my body. Speech. Brain.”

“Oh? Hell Regina, that’s exactly why.”

“I don’t feel too good.”

“Vomit on me and you’re sleeping in the corridor,” Emma said. But she didn’t mean it.

“Don’t,” Regina said, pain in her eyes. “I don’t mean that, I don’t know, don’t feel like myself.”

“Regina, when you’re sober we’ll talk.”

Regina reached out and touched Emma’s face. Emma deftly removed the hand.

“I want my happy ending,” Regina said.

“Fuck,” Emma swore and shook her head.

“Really?” There was hope in Regina’s voice.

“No.”

“Who’s evil now?”


	18. Gambit

Emma struggled to hold Regina upright as they slipped and slided across the street’s wet pavement.

“God, I’ve had enough of this shitty weather,” Emma complained.

Regina remained stubbornly silent as they made their way to the Inn. All the fight and desire seemed to have been drained from Regina as she compliantly went along with Emma’s direction. They stopped briefly at the town’s central well, with an old timber bucket and ladle beside it. The bucket was overflowing with rain water. Emma made Regina take a few sips of water.

“Tastes strange,” Regina said as she continued to drink. Emma drank some too.

“Just water,” Emma said.

The well’s small circular thatched roof did nothing to protect them from the elements. Rain accosted them from a low sharp angle. Emma gently wrapped her arm around Regina’s shoulder and waist, shepherding her towards their accommodation.

They both shook off the rain when they arrived at the covered entryway of the Inn. Regina seemed a little too compliant.

“Regina?” Emma asked in a hushed tone.

“Hmmm?”

They both flinched as lightning struck somewhere close. Maybe the roof of the Inn. Its flash lit up the entire main street and Emma glimpsed Grex. He appeared to be entering one of the closed shops. The vacant window eyes made Emma start. It was the disused butcher shop.

“What’s that all about?” she asked herself.

Thunder shook the Inn. Loud and clear. The rumbling affected every fibre of Emma. She turned to Regina who was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. She looked strangely peaceful.

“Can you make it to the room?” Emma asked.

Regina opened her eyes to reveal desire burned through her dark brown irises. Emma’s body jolted with her own desire.

“By yourself?” Emma’s voice cracked.

“Of course I can,” Regina said, but her words were slurred. “Not the hot springs?”

“No, not the hot springs. Not tonight. Go rest. I’ve just gotta… I wont be long. Lock the door behind you.” She pressed the key into Regina’s hand. “Please.”

“If you insist-”

“I do. And god Regina, don’t fall asleep. Stay awake - okay? Otherwise I’ll have to disturb the owner for a spare.”

Regina nodded, and Emma thought she should go with Regina, tuck her in, light the fire and the lamp, take the key. But she might lose sight of the whereabouts of Grex. And he was up to something. That much was plain.

“Where are you going, dear?” Regina asked as she opened the door to the Inn.

“Off to hunt the wolf,” Emma replied.

“Not wolf, dear, Wolf’s son. He’s nothing like his father.” The words were spoken too softly, too mumbled, and what was left was caught by the wind and rain. All Emma caught was ‘not wolf’.

“Sorry?” Emma asked. The Inn’s closed door was her reply.

Emma so wanted to take Regina’s offer up and visit the hot springs. Regina. Inebriated or not. Compromised or not. She wanted to make love to the woman. All night. Start torturously slow and build up till Regina went rigid, waiting, crying for release. Keeping her there. Slowing down till every fibre of Regina shook with need. Need for her. She wanted to send Regina over the edge. She wanted to hold Regina tight as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Her body singing with ecstasy.

“Focus,” Emma whispered to herself. She could also just go to the hot springs to warm every part of her, wash her mangled hair, soothe every pain, put on some clean dry clothes, and curl up on the small mattress and sleep. A deep restful sleep. And dream of happier times. Of Henry, her parents, and Regina. Regina. The mere hint of the woman made Emma’s body respond. Option one was so more appealing.

‘God, maybe I do need to get laid,’ Emma thought. ‘Get Regina out of my head.’ She closed her eyes and imagined Regina’s piercing brown eyes, her soft dark pink lips, the smooth lines of Regina’s neck, and shoulders. She could feel her hands trailing down the woman’s sides, bringing her close.

Emma’s drifting thoughts quickly returned to reality when another crash of thunder and lighting struck the town again. Minutes later she watched Grex reappear in the street, in the alley beside the old butcher shop. He had something metal in both hands. Emma couldn’t identify what. They weren’t knives. They were bulkier and seemed to have teeth.

Emma edged her way closer. Careful to stay out of the weak light of shop lanterns. Most emitted dull yellow light, and swayed and shook in the wind. She watched Grex sigh and turn his gaze upon the Inn. She edged even closer to him, remaining in the shadows.

She could see the butcher’s door. A symbol in a murky substance had been drawn upon it. It looked ritualistic. It looked like trouble.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

She watched as Grex washed his hands in the nearby well, took a few sips of the crystal clear mountain water, and then with the speed and silence of a true hunter disappeared into the forest behind the Inn. Emma knew she wasn’t able to keep up with his pace without making a lot of noise. So she took her time.

When she arrived at the meandering path, the torches that had lit it previously had been put out. Tendrils of smoke swirled above them. Like giant matches that had been struck then blown out, leaving a black smudge at their tops. The air acrid. Crackled. More lighting and thunder descended, centred on the town. When the noise of weather momentarily settled, Emma strained to hear any unnatural sound. A hint of which direction Grex took. She also looked for signs of footprints or twisted, broken twigs. The weather was not her friend. Her face stung of wind and rain. Her clothes wet and ice cold.

In between, the cessation, of wind ravaging the forest, she heard an ever slight rustling noise, to her right. It drew her off the path and down the early slope of the mountain. She approached cautiously. Hand on the hilt of her knife.

A dark figure stood amoungst the bushes. Their back to her.

‘If he was really hunting, wasn’t this too close to the town? Most animals had more sense than to wander close to settlements. Unless desperate for food,’ Emma thought.

Her eyes never strayed from his back. He stood still, arrow nocked in his bow, with a perfect hidden view of the Inn and hot springs below. He stared across at the Inn.

Two rooms were clearly occupied with flickering candlelight in the windows. One of them was her and Regina’s, at the corner of the building. She didn’t know who occupied the other.

Grex didn’t move. Emma’s heart started pounding. She was sure he would detect her presence soon. If he was in fact as good a hunter as he claimed.

Emma tensed. The room at the end. Their room. The candlelight went out.

He seemed pleased. His shoulders lifted and sagged like he sighed relief. His head shifted slightly downward. He no longer looked at the rooms, but at the hot springs below.

Emma took another careful couple of steps forward. The wet leaves on the ground muffled her approach.

She shivered with surprise and shock. Her head filled with worry.

Regina hadn’t done what she’d asked.

She was there. Exposed.

And Grex was looking straight at her. Regina’s vulnerable form, naked, lying in the hot spring bath.

Emma slowly, millimetre by millimetre unsheathed the knife. She readjusted herself so she could pounce, and or throw the knife. But he didn’t do anything. He just stood there. Seconds passed.

He shifted his focus. Fired the arrow. Emma couldn’t see where it hit, nor hear it, but it was no where near Regina. She made an effort not to relax.

He nocked another arrow. ‘Is he testing the direction of the wind,’ Emma thought. ‘Is he waiting for something? For me to return? For Regina to get out of the hot spring. Standing naked, exposed, and able to see death coming in the form of an arrow piercing her skull or heart.’

Emma heard a little chuckle as he lowered the bow aim to the ground and released the pressure on the string. He un-nocked the arrow so that it lay loose, pointing unsteadily at the ground. He sat down, and leaned up against his pack.

He seemed to be enjoying the view, perhaps a little too much. His eyes never wavered from Regina. He tugged at his belt. His hand slid into his trousers, where the bulge in his pants grew.

‘OMG,’ Emma thought.

She pounced. Kicked the bow and arrow away, winded him, and hurt his occupied hand. She hoped she broke his wrist.

She forced her forearm up against his jugular. Knife pressed to his chest.

“Sicko,” she spat in his face. A very surprised and shocked face. “What the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“Getting asphyxiated?” he said hoarsely. “I wasn’t going to shoot her if that’s your concern. I need her.” At the look Emma gave him he quickly changed his tune. “No, no, not like that. Really, would you get off me?”

“So you’re going to be a creepy bastard and spank the monkey here. Then rape? Either in my mind is going to end with a part of you sliced off and fed to the local dogs.”

“I don’t understand. Your tongue is foreign.” She put more pressure on the knife and it drew blood.

“Understand this, harm her in anyway and I will make sure that tiny little thing in your right hand gets chopped off, sliced and diced, never to be used again. Comprende you mother fucker.”

“Just a kinswoman?” He squeaked. “Okay, okay. The drug we gave her should wear off in the next day or so, if she survives the night. It should have effected you as well.”

“I’m not from here. Anywhere here really.” Murder was in her voice, “What drug?”

“It was just to help get her in the right position. I’m not going to harm her. Well not yet. Probably not by me-”

The knife dug in again. He let out a cry.

“Just what the fuck are you doing then?” She punched him between the legs. He let out a more guttural cry and his body curled.

She stood up, knife still pointed down at him. Her eyes widened in shock realisation. “You’re using her as bait.”

He said nothing.


	19. Bait

He raised an eyebrow and flashed Emma a self-satisfied smirk. The look almost made Emma want to kick him again, but she resisted, just.

“You’re dead,” Emma threatened. She seethed with anger.

“Sticks and stones,” he said nonchalantly. He was regaining his swagger, something Emma didn’t want. “Little piggy went to market, little piggy never came home. Well, they’re not so little really.”

“You’re completely nuts,” Emma said, and took half a step back, wondering what she was in fact going to do to with him.

“Not nuts. You always use live bait. A small animal to lure in a bigger animal.” Grex lunged towards his pack with his remaining good hand. But Emma’s reflexes were quicker. She stomped on his hand. The bones in the fingers crackled. Grex yelped and jerked it back.

Emma grabbed his pack, surprised at its weight, and threw it beside her. It was heavy. She kicked the flap open to reveal a heavy chain attached to a thick metal animal collar. Some of the chain spilled out onto the damp ground.

“What the-” She rubbed the centre of her brow. She was getting concerned that her focus was going, and was so tired.

“Oh, my dear Emma, those chains were just in case Regina wasn’t as co-operative or quite as accommodating as she turned out to be. Sometimes the drug isn’t all that effective.” He gestured at Emma. “Case in point. You’re meant to be unconscious right about now.” He then shrugged, like it was a minor setback.

“You suck at hunting or something?” Emma asked, rhetorically. “Need poison to slow prey down?”

His temper turned. “I’ve hunted them too long. Nothing’s going to stop me killing them tonight.”

“Killing what?” Emma asked. She corrected herself, “who?”

“Don’t you know? Pigs. Wild man-eating pigs. Dangerous creatures. During the day they can rip out your heart, spleen and throat in a blink of their eye. At night, at least, they are forced to hunt-see using fog.” He leaned back a bit. Put his hands behind his back. “Here I was going to sit back and just enjoy the show. Well, first satisfy myself. You must admit she’s a knock-out when she’s not so black-and-blue. Shame, shame, I have to watch her get eaten alive.”

Emma flashed a glance at the hot springs.

“Eaten, by pigs?” But Emma was already understanding just what the pigs were. Still, it unnerved her. Regina was down there, at anyone’s mercy, while she was up here dealing with a complete moron. A dangerous one at that.

‘Regina was right, he’s no wolf,’ she thought. Though she didn’t want to make the mistake of underestimating him or the pigs. She surmised she needed more fire power than one hunting knife.

Grex snorted. “The pigs, they’re hard to track, even harder to kill. Didn’t think they’d come back to Evanaide, ever, but the futa-kuchi prophesied that it would be otherwise.” He flushed with pride. “Do you know how many pigs I’ve killed over the years in the hope they were them? The butchers deserve to die. And so does she! Sweet irony to use Regina as my raw meat. Pork and apple go so well together.”

Emma swallowed hard. She tried to suppress the rising panic and alarm. She clenched her fists so that her hands wouldn’t shake. Somehow the psychos had to be stopped.

Emma tipped the entire contents of Grex’s pack onto the ground, hoping there was something she could tie him up with. There was no rope, but some spare string for his bow. She tested its strength. It would hold well.

“I will watch them satiate, gorge themselves on your kinswoman’s naked self. Her flesh consumed by them. The drug that courses through her will be ingested by them. They’ll fell like a chopped tree. Helpless and tumble so that I can draw near. Puncture their hunger, permanently.”

Emma’s face was red from cold fury. “Just shut the fuck up.”

“I’m doing you and this town a favour by ridding the land of these beasts, and if you’d let me hack off her leg, when I said, I could have saved you at the very least, and maybe most of her. You think I’m brutal? There wont be any part of her left after they’re finished. She’ll be ripped apart, piece by piece.”

Emma stepped forward, string in one hand, knife in the other.

“Your doing, not hers.”

“I could stop them before-”

“Why her?”

“The butchers want her.”

“Why?” Emma’s voice was filled with venom.

“She cursed the eldest first. Fed him to them. Then one by one cursed the others. Let them loose to be hunted themselves. I don’t know how they survived so long, so young, and still hungry.”

“I think I just became vegetarian.” She looked into his piercing yellow eyes. “She’s not dying on my watch, ever.”

“Give me back my bow, and I’ll take their lives, save you the trouble of being their window display or their appetiser.” He made a gesture towards his bow.

Fog licked at Emma’s feet. Grex looked up, a smile curled on his lips.

“Not happening,” Emma said. She loomed over him. Teeth gritted shut.

“She could’ve stopped all this! Not just cursed them. They’re all evil.”

“And what are you? Pure as the driven snow?” An unwanted thought passed through her mind. “I’m stopping you and them. And then, I don’t know, I’m taking a vacation in a federal prison. Has to be less eventful than this place. Away from evil fairytales, Murdersville, serial killers, and whack jobs.”

She bent down to tie him up.

Lightning and thunder roared behind her. The lightning bolt struck the roof of the Inn.

Emma spun around.

Sparks flew off the bolt. If it wasn’t for the constant barrage of the rain storm, specks of red flame would have consumed the roof, maybe the entire timber Inn. Instead the sparks fizzled black smoke that stung cold damp air.

Her eyes darted to Regina. Fog had started to thicken. Low to the ground.

The distraction was all Grex needed. He kicked both of Emma’ knees with enough force to make her lose her balance. She fell heavy, backwards, onto mossy rock. Her forearm took the brunt of the fall. The knife thrown from her hand.

She took a few seconds to gather her bearings. Noticed her hand was millimetres from a foothold-trap. It’s jaw, with long sharp teeth, partly hidden by brush, was ready to snap shut. She eased her hand away.

‘Was that what Grex was carrying earlier?’ she thought. ‘And how many more traps were in the forest?’

She scrambled to her feet, and prepared for hand-to-hand. She looked around for the knife or some sort of weapon. Nothing. She swayed a little as a bout of nausea hit. She grabbed at a low hanging branch to steady herself. Lucky it held her weight. She looked up, panicked that Grex would be coming towards her. But he was standing, trying to. He seemed to be swaying as well.

Grex struggled to stay standing. The bow slipped from his fingers.

“What’s happening,” he slurred. Fog seemed to be pulling him back down. It curled around his waist. It squeezed. He attempted to brush it away with fevered hands. He glanced at Emma. Anger and shock written on his features. “How did you do it? You drugged me?”

“Didn’t,” Emma said softly.

Emma stumbled a few steps back.

‘Was that an hallucination?’ she thought. The fog had grown claws, forced Grex to fall. Face first, on the ground, and not moving.

She rubbed her eyes. She looked at her own feet. Fog was slowly crawling up her. Before fear and panic consumed her, her dark thoughts were interrupted by a scream. Regina’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Name taken from Japanese myth about a 'futakuchi-onna'


	20. Revenge

“Fuck.” Emma lunged down the steep slope and headed towards the springs, with reckless disregard for her own safety.

The whole area had been encased in thick fog. Nothing was visible, only the wall of white. Nothing could be heard except the dying wind and never-ending rain. Only the one scream had escaped the fog’s fortress. It echoed in Emma’s mind. Regina’s scream had penetrated her to the core.

“Regina.” Her own cry was loud and shrill. There was no reply. And that drove Emma forward, as she stumbled from rock to rock, and slid down muddy channels in between. She grasped at branches and larger rocks to slow her descent. At least stop her from flying head first into black gurgling earth, or worse, into one of the foothold traps. Their angry jaws would sever any limb.

She cut through the forcefield of fog and skidded to a halt at the lip of the hot stream of clear flowing water. She looked with terror at the scene opposite. Regina lay inert in one of the Inn’s baths. A Sinciput brother straddled her and was throwing left and right punches at her. She was almost unconscious from the onslaught.

“Regina!” Emma waded across the stream, and heaved herself up and into the hot spring bath.

The man turned. His face a tapestry of tiny white scars. He didn’t blink. His piercing look made Emma pause. His eyes a unique anaemic ruby colour. The scar-man didn’t look human. That made her even more afraid. For her and Regina.

One of his hands rested on Regina’s shoulder, loosely holding her in place, the other dangled by his side. Bloodied. He gave a low growl then a sneer. He turned his back to Emma and continued hitting Regina.

Emma looked quickly around the area. No sign of the second brother, but he had to be near. She inhaled sharply at the sight of a strange set of unsheathed tools, hooks and knives, lying just behind and to the right of Regina.

Emma knew she wouldn’t make it to them without the scar-man intervening. She had no weapon. No bow and arrow, no sword. No knife. There were no loose branches she could swing at him. She pulled at one of the rocks on the side of the hot spring. It didn’t dislodge.

She tried another. The skin on her hands tore from the effort. But she wrenched it free. She ran as fast as she could through the obstructive water.

Regina’s eyes flickered open briefly only to cloud over as she was pushed underwater by the scar-man. Emma watched her thrash.

“No!” Emma launched herself at the man. Swinging the rock at his head with all the force she could muster. It cracked open his skull. Blood poured out staining the hot water red.

It didn’t stop him. He swung at Emma, knocking her over. The rock thrown from her hands. She stood up and held her chin and cheek.

He knocked her down again. This time her back hit the water, flat. It winded her. The scar-face brother grabbed both of Emma’s legs and flung her upside down.

Bad move.

She managed to swing up into his face. A strong right punch to his nose, a nose broken many times before. She heard the satisfying bone snap as her fist impacted on him. He let her go and stumbled back. He wiped the blood off his nose and out of his eyes. But he was still standing.

Regina had come to her senses and managed to crawl her way out of the hot springs and onto the timber deck. She gasped for air. She vomited hot water. With weak legs she attempted to stand.

The second Sinciput brother, with a featureless face, appeared out of the shadows. He kicked Regina low in the stomach with enough force to throw her back into the water.

She scrambled, near panic, into a standing position. Holding her ribs. Her face filled with terror. She tried and failed to create magic fire. She tried and failed to claw her way out of the hot springs. A foot connected with her head. Snapping it back and flinging her hard onto the water’s surface.

She stood up again. Dazed and bloodied. Her hands shook and she swayed, nearing collapse.

‘Maybe stay down, just not in the water,’ Emma thought briefly.

Her silent prayer answered by the wrong person. The flat-faced Sinciput brother with his snub-nose and black eyes drew Regina’s weak form out of the water. Gripped by her hair. A sickly smile plastered on his bland face. He shook her, till her eyes snapped open.

“Remember me, Queeny? Finally. Time for us to swap places hey. Snack on someone other than our own brother,” he spat. “You will regret ever returning here. We broke the curse in time to break you.”

She tore at his thick arm and wrist. She attempted magic but all that happened was a thin wisp of purple smoke and nothing else. His giant spare hand wrapped around her neck. She choked.

“Pig got your throat?” He laughed, and threw her across the room, like a discarded toy.

Her head hit the wall and she lay limp, face down.

“We might just tenderise her a little bit more.” He stomped over to Regina. When she lifted her head a bit, he slammed his fist into her. He took a step back and kicked her in the ribs. He kept kicking her compliant body, now curled in an inane attempt to protect herself.

“Marinate her in her own juices,” he said as he continued his assault.

Emma didn’t wait for the final cooking analogy. She swerved to avoid her own pig issue. Sprung out of the water near the myriad of tools that laid dormant on the side. She picked up the nastiest looking one. A foot-long, inch thick piece of metal with a razor sharp spiked end.

Emma threw it at the snub-nosed pig-man that was attacking Regina. She used all her strength and force, falling forward as she released it. And it hit home. In the back of his neck. Both his hands swung behind him to dislocate the deadly rod. Blood poured from him mouth. His knees buckled and he lurched forward. Eyes bulged in anger and disbelief. He fell on top of an inert Regina.

Scar-face pounded the water in anger. His ruby eyes turned black like his brother’s. He yelled with renewed venom at Emma. A yell that shook her. A death cry.

He jumped out of the water between her and the wall where his brother and Regina lay. He glanced at his brother, a pool of blood surrounded him.

“Before I finish her off, which, just so you know, is going to take weeks of fun and games, maybe I deep fry you, little kitten,” his voice was filled with rage. “Dip you limb by limb in hot oil. Show you what the Sinciput brothers really are good at. You can be our window display, alongside pathetic dog meat.”

“No.” A familiar female voice cut through the haze of threats and violence. “She’s mine.”

Emma’s world exploded into stars, a blanket of piercing white, and then complete darkness.


	21. Dinner

Emma awoke to pain. Her own. Her head throbbed and her whole body throbbed with it. She went to touch the back of her head, where she felt the most pain, but found her hands were restricted. Tied together, above her head.

She opened her eyes to blurred vision. A small halo of light flickered in front of her. Black shapes either side of her. Wherever she was, it was ice cold, dark, and close.

She licked her dried, blood-caked, lips. Blinked a few times and watched as the room came into slow focus. She wriggled her fingers. There was a clinking noise. She looked up and saw her hands tightly bound in thick rope, strung over a large hook on a metal beam. She had been suspended from the hook. She tried to wrestle her hands free.

The effort made her head swim. She put her head down, stopped moving, and closed her eyes briefly. The world stopped spinning and the pain stopped pulsing through her in sharp incessant bursts. She took a few deep breaths. She opened her eyes, blew some hair off her face, and looked down instead. Her feet dangled inches from a cold, wet, stone floor. She attempted to move her feet but she saw large metal shackles had been clamped firm around each ankle, and chained to the floor. There was no chance for movement more than an inch or two. If she stretched her body out taught she could just manage to touch the floor.

On the table ahead of her was the flickering light of a candle. Beside it was a set of strange tools and instruments lying in a precise row on a pale green cloth. They appeared to be the same, or similiar, to the tools she had seen at the hot springs. Even the pointed steel rod she’d used to kill one of the brothers was there. Cleaned and sparkling in the gloom. It sent a shiver through her. She didn’t want to dwell on what each of the tools were used to for, but she found herself with a macabre compulsion to know.

She heard a low moan to the left of her. She snapped her head in that direction and was rewarded with stabbing pain.

“Eergh. Gotta stop doing that,” she said to herself. The pain came with a wave of nausea. The sight came with a wave of panic and dread. Rational thought swept away.

Hanging next to her, naked, unconscious, was Regina. The woman’s breathing was raspy and laboured.

Emma struggled wildly in her restraints. Her hands and feet bruised as she attempted to twist free. After a few minutes, she tired, her thoughts settled, and she realised she was only hurting herself. The bind was too strong.

“Regina,” Emma whispered, in an intense, concerned tone. No response. “Regina?!”

Regina moaned. Her head remained slumped forward. Dark hair covered her eyes. Her body riddled with fresh bruising and cuts. Blood dripped from head and leg wounds. Emma had never seen Regina so broken, so vulnerable.

“Regina,” Emma said, her voice cracked as she fought back tears. “Please Regina. Please wake up. Don’t you dare die on me.”

Then Emma saw him. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Anger flooded her mind. She was about to rip into him when she realised he wasn’t moving for a reason. He was bound as well, unconscious, and hanging from a meat hook, just like them. She gave a derogatory snort of laughter. Grex’s plan of trapping and killing the Sinciput men had backfired. In a major way. ‘When he wakes up,’ Emma thought. ‘I’m going to kill him.’

Directly beside him, also hanging on a hook, was an actual wild pig. A huge creature. Dead. Blood dripped from where the hook had been inserted into its neck. The blood snaked around the mix of pink and brown toned-skin, and pooled on the floor, on mass. Its legs were thick, like tree trunks. Its back legs touched the floor at odd angles, like they had been broken at the knee joints.

“Hell,” Emma said softly. She surveyed the room, all the while, whispering loudly to Regina in an effort to waken her.

She surmised they were in the closed butcher shop. In its cold storage room. Old dark stains sprayed the walls like bloodied frescoes engraving the walls with its harrowing history. Black blotches marked the floor. And the smell of rotted flesh lingered in the stale air and stung Emma’s eyes with its intensity.

A large butcher’s block, the size of a sarcophagus, lay to her right. Mortar and pestle stood at the nearest corner. Along with a few coloured vials, a cup, and three jugs of phosphorescent yellow-green liquid.

The block’s aged timber surface was drenched in the same black stains as the floor, and had an axe firmly lodged in its smoothed dipped centre, worn with age and use.

It had not been cleaned.

“Regina!”

“Miss Swan?”

“Oh thank god,” Emma said. Regina finally raised her head, and turned towards Emma. She looked dazed. Clumps of hair stuck to her face. “Regina? I need you to wake up. Don’t pass out. Just don’t. I need your help. Need you to use your magic. Get us the hell outta here.”

“Miss Swan?”

“Regina, focus, please,” Emma said, trying to keep the urgency out of her voice. “I need you!”

“Not,” Regina said, “able.” She took a big breath and glanced around. “Where are we?”

“We’re in deep shit, that’s where. Oh hell Regina just use your magic and get us out of these, now.” Emma tugged at the rope and chains. “Before tweedle dumb returns to do, I don’t want to know what.” Emma’s eyes lingered on the table with the instruments. She swore.

“You’re cute,” Regina said.

Emma let out a cry of frustration.

“You really are.” Regina went to reach out to Emma then she realised she couldn’t. She wrestled with the restraints in a rising panic.

“Regina!” Emma yelled, trying to cut through the other woman’s distress. It worked. Regina stopped and gave Emma an enigmatic look.

“Are you having a nightmare? Am I in it?”

Emma sighed. “I wish. Regina do you think you can cast a spell and get us out of here?”

Regina pursed her lips, flexed her hands a bit, and tried to cast a small spell. A tiny puff was the result, nothing else.

“Ah, no. Sorry my dear. Maybe if you have another of your ‘dreams’, or better yet, we have some uncomplicated sex. Though knowing you it’d be complicated, but at least you would heal me some more,” Regina flashed Emma a smile in a moment of lucidity, “I could endeavour to try again.”

Emma leaned her head on her bicep and sighed heavily.

“Regina. This isn’t a game. There’s not going to be a happy ending. It’s going to be a shitty shitty ending for both of us. No finding my parents, no Henry,” the latter name sparked a response. Regina repeated their son’s name. Her lucidity fading. “We’re just going to end up being some Sinciput brother’s kill. Whatever they gave you, did a number on you.”

“I hurt,” came the words, softly spoken, and with a hint of surprise.

“I know,” Emma replied.

“Head feels,” Regina paused, thinking hard, “strange. Miss Swan, what did you do to me? What are you playing at?”

“Not me, and not playing Regina.”

The door swung open behind them. The room flooded with natural light for the briefest of moments before the door slammed shut. Emma knew someone had entered. She attempted to twist around and see who, but failed. Her head began throbbing again.

“Regina,” she said through clenched teeth. She cast a furtive glance at Regina.

“I don’t believe she can help you,” the voice said. A female voice. Familiar and chilling.

“Who…”

“Am I?” Mary Mary moved to stand by the table. She gave Emma a quick smile. She looked almost coy. “I’m Mary Mary and we’ve already been introduced. Though perhaps I hit you too hard as you are bleeding a bit. You do remember me, right?”

“Yeah unfortunately.” Emma raised an eyebrow.

“Good, good.”

“Depends on your perspective,” Emma said.

“From my perspective,” Mary Mary looked at the line up, “it looks very good. When Grex mentioned the Queen was travelling with a white witch maiden, untapped, I got very excited.”

“Doesn’t take much then hey?” Emma’s mind began racing for an escape.

“Your blood and essence will add to our longevity, perfection, beauty.” Mary Mary caressed her own face.

“You’ve looked in a mirror lately?”

“Not as often as some,” Mary Mary said. A dark look crossed her face.

“You do know I’m no virgin, right? Kinda kills the virgin sacrifice thing, yeah?”

Mary Mary ignored Emma and toyed with the instruments laid out on the table. “Virgin sacrifice,” she said, as if remembering something. “No, not that.”

“Gather you’re not our rescue party then?” Emma closed her eyes and attempted her own magic. Nothing happened.

“No, definitely not.” Mary Mary smiled. “No need to stress yourself though. I’m going to treat you with such,” she paused, “delicate care.”

“Nice to know,” Emma said. “Where’s tweedle dumb?”

“Oh, Jendore Sinciput? He’ll be here at dawn and very hungry. Ravenous even. I’ll let him have a lick or two with you. Then his revenge with her. Whatever he wants. He can even eat my disobedient little bitch of a wolf. Stupid stupid wolf.” She flashed an angry look at Grex. “But you sweet sweet Emma, you will be all mine. Oh my we are going to have such fun together while I watch my garden grow.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Excuse me?” Mary Mary asked.

“Slight hitch, Mary Mary. I can call you Mary Mary, yeah? Not that your offer isn’t very appealing, but, well, I’m kinda taken, sorry.”

“I know you have an affection for this one.” She poked Regina and got a satisfying ‘moan’ as a reward. “Why? I do not understand. But you wont need to worry about her for much longer.”

Mary Mary’s eyes flashed an angry look at Regina, and then softened as they resumed their assessment of Emma. “But you, well, you and I are going to have ourselves a very private dinner party.”

“Aren’t we all a bit under-dressed for a party?”

“Quite the opposite, really.” Mary Mary winked at Emma. She then turned her attention to Regina. She stroked Regina’s face and lifted her chin so that Regina looked directly at her.

“Time for my aperitif,” Mary Mary said. “Good evening precious.”

“Good evening,” Regina said. Mary Mary smiled and Regina smiled back, spellbound by her eyes.

“Yes, it is a good evening, isn’t it? And it’s so good to see my special mixture working so well. Just the right group of ingredients to spell-bind a carnivorous queen for my carnivorous pigs.” She examined Regina’s face.

Emma closed her eyes again and concentrated on the rope that bound her hands.

“What’d you give her?” Emma asked.

“I call it ‘marinade usucapio regina’. The dose will continue to course through her veins long after she has served us all the delight we desire. She is so easily led, so easily hurt. Even now she would consent to the pigs more unsavoury requests.” She poured green liquid into a cup. Added a dash of purple. Stirred. She took the cup and pushed it onto Regina’s lips.

“Open wide.”

Regina obliged.

“Good girl. Now, drink,” Mary Mary commanded. Regina took a sip. “Drink all of it.”

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, with a sense of dread. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her hands twisted some more in the restraints. Emma willed herself to concentrate on magic.

Mary Mary pushed the cup closer, tipped it higher, pressing down till teeth parted. “Swallow!”

Regina swallowed. She was forced to take big gulps. Some of the liquid spilled out.

“Don’t waste a drop.” Mary Mary put down the cup and wiped Regina’s lips with her thumb.

“Mary Mary?!” Emma’s voice was low and filled with hate.

“Don’t worry Emma. You don’t need drugging. Regina, on the other hand, well the mixture helps do a whole range of things to her. This is going to open her right up.” Her smile turned Emma’s stomach. “Seems a waste just to chop her up and eat her. But that’s what my friend wants to do, eventually, apparently. Something about revenge for his eldest brother, who had a similiar misfortune in her care.”

Mary Mary leaned in close and whispered to Regina. “What would you like me to do to you my delicious queen. Hmmm?” She kissed Regina on the lips. A soft, light kiss. Emma watched in horror as Regina’s body responded. Mary Mary deepened the kiss.

“Leave her alone,” Emma snapped.

Mary Mary pulled back and flashed a grin at Emma. “She doesn’t mind. Do you petal?”

Regina shook her head.

“You want me to continue?” Mary Mary asked.

“Yes,” there was need in Regina’s voice.

“Because she’s off her head.”

“Not yet, but soon. Jendore Sinciput will finish her with some neatly placed slicing. But dawn is a long time away. I have hours to toy with her. Years with you.”

There was a knock at the door behind Emma. The door inched open.

“Futa, it’s ready,” a male voice said, tentatively. Emma smelt rather than saw the Sinciput brother. Scar-face. Still alive. Though he must be hurting. She killed his snub-nosed pig of a brother, and badly wounded him.

Mary Mary smiled and left the room with the brother. The door shut behind them. Emma noticed the lack of a locking sound.


	22. Break Fast

Adrenalin kicked in. Her heart thumped loud, like a block of house alarms screaming together, drowning out all other sound.

‘Would anyone hear, if there were an alarm?’ Emma thought. She suspected there would be no vigilant neighbourhood watch, just disinterested neighbours whose only concern their own convenience.

She closed her eyes and attempted magic. Nothing. She envisaged the rope unwinding, her hands freed. Still nothing. The chains snapping loose. Shackles crumbling like caked powder. There was a hint of gold light burning through her eyelids. She opened her eyes and peered down. Nothing.

“Argh!”

She tugged hard with her bound hands. Rope burned. Too tight, too strong. She wrenched again. Bones snapped in her right hand. She suppressed a cry.

“Emma,” Regina said. The name was drawn out and softly spoken.

“Not now Regina,” Emma growled. The third tug, another bone snapped.

“Did I ever tell you about the pigs and the big bad wolf? He was never big nor bad-”

“Not now Regina!”

“How ‘bout Futakuchi-onna and Inugami, Big Bad’s son?” she asked, her voice slurred. “Malevolent beings. All tied together with the butchering pigs.”

“No, that’s us. We’re the ones tied and about to be butchered.” Another bone snapped. Emma let out an involuntary shriek. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Fairy tales, no happy endings here. I don’t believe I ever told you how much I love-”

“If they’re the fairy tales we’re in. I get it. Their evil as all fuck.”

“Where pigs, and goats and children go… with little boys, and merry girls… with hollowed ribs and empty shells… where does her garden grow… juice of witch, hint of spine, futa turns it into wine… plough, plough plough the dust of the enemies…” Regina said, distracted.

Emma pulled down hard. Her eyes screwed shut. Her mind raced with a hint of light magic sparking and a measure of desperation. She crushed her knuckles. The pain racked through her. She fought the sudden urge to be sick. She couldn’t look up, she knew she’d pass out if she did.

The door opened and Mary Mary and Jendore, the scar-faced pig, re-entered the cold storage room. Neither of them noticed Emma’s mangled hands, still bound, but infinitely closer to escape.

Mary Mary carried a timber box in, and placed it on the table. It was a plain, unadorned box. The pig carried in a large barrel on his shoulder. It had two large hooks attached, and a long tube dangled from the tap on the barrel’s base. Emma could hear liquid slurp inside it. Scar-face hooked it onto the metal bar, between herself and Regina.

He waddled to stand in front of her. Despite Emma being partly suspended, he still looked down on her. His breath made her gag.

“I’ve got breath mints in my left pocket,” Emma said. She swallowed.

“You and your little friend here are going to beg us to stop. Well, you are. She’s not capable of anything but submission, now. She’ll be conscious through all of it. Experience everything. The height of sensitivity. See? We’re not that bad. With the amount of mixture she’s got inside her, she’ll even enjoy some of it. Enjoy Futa’s playtime, then mine. Especially my cooking. Sob and beg. Yeah, that’s what you’ll do. Hah! Tasty.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but we’re all gristle.”

“Nah, not gristle, good innards. After we’ve stuffed her so full of our fermented swill she’s going to taste too good to stop at offal. Tasty revenge for my fallen brothers. They’d be so proud. One by one we’re having you for dinner,” he spat. “Piece by piece.”

“Choke on bone you piece of-”

He bared his stubby teeth and long tongue. He licked Emma’s face. She retched. “Tasty as, hey Futa?”

“Oh, she is that, she is that indeed,” Mary Mary replied.

“You’ll be pleading for us to stop the torment.”

“Promises, promises,” Emma said.

He pulled her into a rough hug. “Though, she wants to break you herself. I’ll get your left-overs.”

“So you’re way down the food chain then?” His grip tightened around her waist. Crushing her lungs.

“She’s just trying to get a rise out of you,” Mary Mary warned.

“Something’s rising, tat’s fer sure,” he sneered. Emma bit down hard onto his snout. He released her, held his nose and snapped her head to the side with a solid punch to her jaw. Blood flew out of her mouth. Hands twisted just a little bit more.

“Leave her. She can watch what we do to this one.”

He growled, and wrapped a dirty cloth across Emma’s mouth. “Then can I break her?”

“When I’m finished, why not,” Mary Mary said nonchalant.

He pulled out the axe from the chopping block and swung the blunt end at Regina’s left knee. It shattered. She whimpered and groaned in pain, then slumped forward.

“No, no. Set her up,” Mary Mary said. “You can break bones later.” He reluctantly obeyed, putting the axe down, and instead opened the box Mary Mary had carried in. He took out a leather collar, and wrapped it around Regina’s neck.

“How tight?” he asked.

“So she can breathe and swallow.”

He pulled hard and selected a notch. “Time to play.”

Mary Mary simpered.

Scar-face grunted.

“Waking up time,” Mary Mary said as she breathed onto Regina’s face. She kissed her. Regina groaned, flitted open her eyes.

“OH-” Realisation dawned on her.

Mary Mary gave Regina a wide grin.

“How are you feeling my Evil Queen?” Mary Mary asked.

“I’m cold, naked, and in rather an urgent need for healing and a hot shower.” Regina shivered. “Unless you require glasses my dear, it is safe to say I’m not in peak physical condition. So, ‘how am I feeling’, well, that’s hardly a valid question. As for your use of poorly chosen descriptive terminology, I’d say me being ‘evil’ is quite defunct, considering our present predicament,” Regina said, a little breathless.

Emma tried to smile, but it hurt too much. Regina’s answer seemed to disturb Mary Mary as she frowned and placed her hand over her mouth in contemplation.

“Oh, I see. Tighter,” she commanded. Scar-face wrapped his arm around Regina’s neck from behind her and pulled the collar’s tab into the next notch. Regina let out a small strangled cry.

“How are you feeling?”

“Woozy, head is spinning. Tingling. Pin-pricks all over. Hurting,” Regina paused. “And not hurting. Moments of-”

“Pleasure?”

Regina grunted. The taught leather collar had partly restricted her airways, and her breathing was more like dying gasps. But despite all that Emma was at least thankful Regina seemed coherent. ‘Or though maybe that wasn’t such a good thing,’ she had as an afterthought.

“That’s better.” Mary Mary licked her lips. “What’s the condition of your magic?”

“Depleted. Suppressed.”

“And hers?”

“I don’t know. She’s untrained.”

“What’s your opinion of her?” Mary Mary probed.

“She’s annoying, frustrating, stubborn,” Regina responded. Emma had to rescue them both before Regina started pouring out all their secrets. That and the more important fact she was about to watch Regina being tortured to death.

‘Please, please don’t mention Henry,’ Emma thought, as she attempted to gather herself, summon all her strength and willpower.

Regina didn’t stop. “But she’s also very brave. She continually surprises me with her strength, her drive, her adaptiveness, her compassion, her love.” The last word was barely audible.

Mary Mary laughed. “You can’t possibly think a white witch however young and naive, could ever love you?” The words made Emma stop. All focus moved to Regina. She could saw tears swell in the woman’s eyes.

“I-” Regina stuttered.

“Hmph.” Mary Mary leaned in close. “How could anyone love you? You are manipulative, and cruel. A murderer, an evil queen. Granted, you are beautiful, but only skin deep. You know that don’t you? Know that she will never love you?”

“I… ah… yes.” Regina said, defeated.

Mary Mary stroked Regina’s cheek.

“Well, that’s something at least.”

“Please let Emma go, she’s innocent in all of this. She’s not from here-” Emma struggled in her restraints. The chains clanked.

Mary Mary shot Emma a withering look.

“Innocent you say? Even now, she is only looking out for herself. See, Regina? She does not love or even care for you. If she had a choice between her life and yours, you know she’d let you die. In fact, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. She deserves a happy ending. You and I both know, you do not. See, she stands beside you already free.”

“Free?” Regina asked, hopeful.

“Oh yes, free. She’s already made a deal with me. She wants to watch you hurt. Watch me and then Sinciput here cook you up. Then she’ll go back to wherever she calls home.”

“Oh,” Regina’s voice cracked. Emma’s cry of disagreement was muffled.

“Yes, yes. Back to wherever she calls home.” Mary Mary prodded Regina. “Now, on a brighter note, since we’re having a party, are you ready for some more drinking?” Mary Mary asked.

Scar-face tipped Regina’s head back, seized the end of the tube dangling from the barrel and held it in front of Regina’s lips.

“Now, it’s time to be a good girl and open up,” Mary Mary commanded.

Regina shook her head. But her jaw loosened. Emma wasn’t certain Regina would be able swallow much, if anything.

Emma swallowed down her own feeling of nausea. The cold room had become unbearably hot.

“That’s the way, open right up,” Mary Mary said. She pulled at Regina’s lips. “Open up my precious, time to prepare you.”

Scar-face started to push the tube down Regina’s throat. He laughed, guttural.

Regina gagged. He held her head in place with one hand. And without mercy, he pushed the tube down further.

“The burning sensation will pass,” Mary Mary said and nodded when the tube was sufficiently down her throat. Scar-face turned the tap on and they both stepped back and watched as terror creased Regina’s face. She buckled in the restraints. Black liquid spurted out of her mouth. She started to choke.

“Swallow precious swallow. Don’t resist it. Let it in. Let it all in. Swallow. That’s it. It’s not the nicest tasting liquid but it’s definitely the most useful. Swallow again. The liquid’s quite thick, so it’s going to take considerable time. The more you swallow, the quicker this process will finish. And again, don’t forget to swallow. Gulp gulp.” Mary Mary smiled. “Good.”

She picked up a curved shape implement from the table.

“Well now, where shall we start?” Mary Mary asked, as she glanced up and down Regina’s body.

Emma yelled through her stifling rag. Again, she tugged hard at her restraints. She had to ignore the pain. If magic wasn’t going to work. Determination had to. She just couldn’t pass out now. She had to save Regina.

“Shuddup,” Scar-face yelled and punched Emma with so much force to her stomach, it released her crushed hands. Her right worse than her left. She fell towards the butcher’s block, grabbed the nearest jug and swung it at the pig’s face. It shattered on impact. Green liquid spilled onto his face and torso. The green liquid burned him. His veins popped green.

He dropped to his knees, and froze.

Emma didn’t wait for the resounding squeal of agony from him. She launched the other jug at Mary Mary.

Her heart pounded. Her breath short. Her hands shook with rage.

The back of Mary’s head split. In half. Hair peeled back and revealed a large hole.

A mouth was buried under Mary Mary’s hair, in the back of her head.

The two-mouthed woman.

Tendrils of her hair shot out like black fluid limbs. Towards Emma.

Like deadly grasping claws.

It took seconds for the image to register. Seconds too long. The tendrils twisted around Emma’s neck. They squeezed. She clawed at them to no effect. Air was being sucked from her lungs. They burned.

Her right hand fumbled around, searching for the axe.

Her hand felt the smooth handle. Her fingers slowly wrapped around it, though her strength waned. Her grip weakened with more than one finger broken.

Purple smoke twirled around Mary Mary’s head.

The long black clawed-hair shimmered grey.

Emma grabbed the axe and swung it with all her strength at Mary’s second mouth.

The scream of two voices made Emma’s ear drums bleed.

The edge of the axe lodged itself inside the second mouth. Mary Mary’s screams cut short. Black blood splattered the surround. The tendrils loosened and retracted.

Emma fell forward awkwardly, her ankles still bound. They twisted.

“Argh.”

She snapped open the cuffs with fumbling fingers, and stumbled over to Regina. She wrenched the tube out of the barrel. Pulled it out of Regina’s mouth. Blood poured out as she extracted it. She unfastened the collar, and then the locks on Regina’s legs. She lifted Regina up to release her hands off the hook, and untied the rope.

Regina slumped in her arms.

Emma pulled off her own gag. Picked Regina up, kicked open the door and carried her out into the main section of the shop.

The place was filled with lanterns that flickered light over cleaned benches, a window display and meat trays ready for meat.

‘Theirs?’ She shut the thought down.

Emma didn’t at first register Grex’s cry. “How about me? At least give me the key to the chains. Hello? Hello? Don’t leave me! He’s not dead!”

Emma growled. She sat Regina down on a wooden bench, and stormed back into the cold room. She removed the axe from Mary Mary’s head, and swung it down onto Scar-face’s neck.

“He is now,” she said, her voice hoarse. She slammed the door closed, picked Regina up in both arms and exited the store.

She stepped back when she was confronted by villagers, who had gathered outside.

The first sign of dawn, with pale pink light, swept the shadows away. The early morning fog had dissipated. And pockets of warmth had started to form.

“No no. No need to be afraid of us,” the alchemist said. “You see we are in your debt forever more. None have tackled the butcher pigs and lived. None have dared to challenge the futa and become more than her own mix for longevity.”

The barman moved forward to help Emma with Regina.

“No,” Emma barked. Her voice sounded strange, like it wasn’t hers. “What’s wrong with you people?! You could’ve warned us. Helped us.”

The barman and the grumpy innkeeper shook their heads.

“We were indentured. A decision we, as a village, made many decades ago. It extracted a cruel price. A deadly decision we have lived with till our graves,” the alchemist said. “Our thanks to you. You are safe now my witches.”

Emma barely contained her anger and impulse to get the axe and hurl it at each of them.

“Anyone come anywhere near us, and you’ll be in those graves quicker than you think.”

They stood back and let Emma carry Regina to the Inn.


	23. Never too Late

She kneeled, and with gentle, strong arms, lowered Regina onto their shared mattress on the floor. She removed Regina’s arms from around her neck. There was some resistance in letting go. Regina mumbled something akin to a ‘no don’t’.

“Shhh. It’s okay Regina. We’re safe now,” Emma whispered. She secured the room, then proceeded to do a visual on their supplies contained within. Her eyes rested on the vial the alchemist had given them the night of their arrival. A few drops remained.

Her effort to get Regina to drink ended in getting a left hook to the eye and scratches to her face and hands. But she did manage to get Regina to swallow the precious drops.

Within minutes Regina started vomiting. Blood and black liquid spilled forth. Emma just held her as she heaved, trying to comfort her. Eventually the heaving subsided into barely audible groans of pain and then into raspy breathing, as Regina drifted in and out of consciousness.

Emma did a quick assessment of Regina’s wounds. She made a silent prayer. She sponge bathed Regina with cold water. Cleaned off the dirt, blood, and the black sticky substance.

“Emm…”

“I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay,” she lied as she patted Regina’s shoulder. She bandaged the worst areas, shaking her head as she did. She bit her lower lip and fought back tears.

‘This is too much,’ Emma thought.

She did try to get Regina to also drink water but the attempt was too traumatic for them both. So she ended up just wiping Regina’s face and lips with a damp cloth. She felt dazed and exhausted.

Emma pulled the blanket over them both, hugged Regina, and let her tears flow. They soon turned into sobs. She hoped rather than knew if Regina would make it. Her own pain and injuries obliterated with worry for the other woman. Within seconds she surrendered into sleep. Fitful, pain-ridden, worry-filled sleep.

She remembered waking briefly around midday. Thankful that they were still both alive, and undisturbed.

Sunlight streamed in. Dust mites shimmered like tiny fireflies dancing along the light beams. She closed her eyes and could still see an array of warm colours swirl through the room.

She heard distant noises. Crackling sounds. She was curious not worried. She felt the warmth of Regina’s naked body beside her, pulled in closer, gave her a sleepy kiss, and went back to sleep.

 

_Emma eased her sore body into the hot water. She instantly gasped. Her whole body tingled with the heat. Relief flooded every part of her._

_“Ahh,” she sighed. Eyes closed with a satisfied smile on her face. As she relaxed, her thoughts drifted to Regina. To how she reacted at Regina's scent in the forest. How, with the slightest hint of the woman's scent, ever since, made her own body reward her with ripples of pleasure._

_The warmth of the alcohol, and the warmth of the hot spring, made her give way to thoughts of reason and she began to touch herself. Light but insistent. She started at her lips. Her hand brushed over them. She imagined touching Regina's lips. Pressing down on them, parting them with her fingers, feeling the other woman acquiesce._

_She let the hand slide down her neck to her breasts. She started slowly, softly. Moving around the hardening centres. Teasing. She let out a sound of pure pleasure when she first touched her nipples. Her other hand moved from resting on the surface of the steaming water, to underneath, to between her legs. Rubbing herself up and down. Circling, then pressing. Harder and harder. Faster. Then she slipped one, then two fingers in. Then back onto her swollen core._

_Her breaths became short. With the other hand she pinched her nipples. She came. Waves of electric pleasure and release pulsed through every part of her. Her head flung back. Eyes closed. Breathing heavy sighs into the cool night air. She said Regina's name. Barely more than a whisper._

_“Yes dear?” Regina said in her deep, smooth honey voice. Her breath warm and sweet on Emma's face._

_Emma's eyes flicked open in shock._

_Regina stood in front of her. Her dark hair pulled back behind her ears. Her lips curled into a cheeky smile. Her eyes flashed at Emma. Light caught the edges, shining mischief for the briefest of seconds._

_Regina mouthed the word ‘come’._

_She was dressed in a long flowing black dress. The edges of the dress floated on the surface of the water._

_Emma attempted to sit up but Regina was too fast for her. Regina had wrapped herself around Emma. Pinned her to the wall of the hot spring. Emma started to remove her hand from her warm wet centre when she felt fingers enclose around her wrist. Regina gave a slight smile and shook her head. With a firm grip Regina pushed Emma’s hand a little deeper back into her. Another moan escaped Emma's lips._

_Any thought of embarrassment or denial was quickly abated by Regina sitting on her lap. An arm curved around her neck. Cheek to cheek. Lips exploring Emma's face. Light, gentle kisses. Emma’s body flushed with escalating desire._

_“Show me again Miss Swan. How much you crave for me.” Regina’s eyes were deep pools of desire. Her lips twitched with a mixture of sinister and playfulness. Emma tried to say something but was silenced by Regina biting her lower lip, then parting them with her tongue. Sliding along her teeth. Emma opened her mouth. Regina kept her lips on Emma’s, and waited until Emma leaned into the kiss before letting their tongues intertwine. Emma could feel the other woman dominating her through the kiss. She let herself go. Just as she did so, Regina withdrew. Both their breathing intense._

_Regina started touching Emma. Soft and insistent. Emma just lapped up the sensation and the pleasuring response from every part of her._

_Regina’s fingers lingered on Emma’s breasts. Circling them. Circling her already very hardened nipples. Painfully hard._

_“Please,” Emma said. Her voice low and needy._

_Regina gave each nipple a little lick and suck. Her breath warm on Emma’s skin._

_“Please,” Emma said. Her mouth open. Her loins hot and wet._

_Regina’s hands moved to Emma's head, turning it slightly so she could suck on Emma’s ear._

_“Show me,” Regina said in a low hoarse whisper. She licked her lips. “Think of me. Touch yourself, make yourself come. I want to see just how much you want this. Want me.”_

_Fire consumed Emma’s blue eyes. She closed them. Shut them from the penetrating dark brown eyes. She didn't need to see Regina. Didn’t need to show her how her eyes betrayed her. Showed the burning need. She wanted Regina. All of her._

_Regina took one of Emma’s hands, interlocked her fingers and moved it down over Emma’s stomach and stopped at Emma’s inner thigh._

_“Start slow Miss Swan. Slow.”_

_“I want you-”_

_“Not yet.” The voice low and the words drawn out._

_Emma stroked herself. Starting slow, as commanded. Her mind filled with Regina in her. On her. Her strokes became harder, and she came quickly._

_Her body glowed with heat. Multiple orgasms pulsed through her till she felt exhausted. Her head rested on Regina's shoulder. Spent._

_Then she felt the woman’s lips on her neck and chest. Each breast, then tugging on each sore nipple. She almost came again._

_“Miss Swan, Emma, next time - I want the pleasure of undressing you. Making you come with the barest of touches.” She laughed. “Perhaps a little more than today. A very little. But you have to be good, and tell me, what exactly do you want?” Regina asked._

_“You. I want you.”_

_“Hmmm? Exactly Miss Swan. I want to hear the words.”_

_“I want you. In me. I want you to make me come.”_

_“Well, you can tick that one off-” Her words were cut short as Emma’s lips sealed on Regina’s neck. Emma pulled the straps of the dress off Regina’s shoulders and began kissing them. Touching them._

_“I want to make you come. I want to touch you. Go down on you.”_

_“Just ‘want’?” Regina asked, breathy and trying to stay in control._

_“I need you. Need you Regina. Please.”_

_They kissed. Lips melded. Swallowing each other in the heat of passion. She wrapped her legs around Regina. Pulled her in close so she could feel Regina’s erect nipples through the fabric on her own bare skin._

_She slipped one hand down the front of Regina’s dress and felt her breast and hardened nipple. She squeezed. She heard Regina’s small gasp. She squeezed again. Harder. Twisted it between her fingers._

_She felt Regina stiffen and arch. She let go of the nipple, grabbed Regina by the waist, and attempted to push forward in a hope to reverse their positions. But Regina, somehow, held her down, firm._

_Without warning Regina pulled away, extricating herself. Emma tried to hold onto her tight, but she slipped through her fingers._

_Emma's eyes flashed open. Regina was getting out of the hot spring. She was fully clothed. Heels and all. Drenched. She turned to face Emma with an elegance only Regina could manage in wet clothes. An eyebrow arched and a smirk played on her lips._

_“By the way Miss Swan, dinner is served.” And with that Regina left._


	24. Roused

The earth beneath her shook. She gripped whatever she was gripping, harder. She was being reluctantly roused from sleep. No, it wasn’t the earth. It was her. Someone pulled at her. Shook her.

“Not now,” she mumbled, and thought she could easily slip back into her deep deep sleep. She felt like she could sleep for days. Forever even.

“Miss Swan!” The voice pierced her sleepy warm haze. There was no mistaking Regina’s admonishing tone.

“Reg-” she managed to say, slurred and slightly dismissive.

“Miss Swan!” The words were loud, angry and very close. She opened an eye to find two brown ones staring at her, inches from her face. That startled her.

“Huh?”

“Eloquent as always.”

“Wha..?”

“Let me go!” Regina demanded.

“What?” Emma opened both eyes and realised she had both arms wrapped around Regina in a tight, vice-like grip.

She released Regina. She felt a little off kilter and confused. She glanced around the room. Afternoon sun streamed in. The room still secure.

“Sorry-”

“Why am I naked?!” Regina pushed away from Emma, and sat up.

Emma rubbed her eyes and forehead. She came to the slow realisation she had no feelings in her hands. She looked at them. It took seconds to work out what she was looking at. She sat bolt upright herself.

Her hands were a mangled mess. She heard Regina gasp.

“Just exactly what happened last night?” Regina looked aghast at Emma’s hands.

Emma felt a hot wave of nausea. Pain shot through every fibre of her. She swayed and forced herself not to pass out.

“What happened?” Regina’s demand softened to concern.

“You, don’t remember?” she asked, incredulous.

“Remember what? That you got me drunk? That my head feels like its filled with lead.” She raised an eyebrow. “That no matter what I do, I can’t seem to hang onto clothes ever since we started travelling together!”

The accusation made Emma smile.

“This isn’t funny!” Regina glanced over her body. Emma’s eyes followed Regina’s. She was thankful that Regina appeared completely healed. She pulled Regina into a quick hug, took her head in her mangled hands, and kissed her on the lips.

“Thank god.” Relief was clear on Emma’s features, and confusion on Regina’s.

“For what? Letting you squeeze me to death?” A thought dawned on her. Her brown eyes sparkled with mischief, then clouded over with her usual unreadable demeanour. “Did you…? You had another dirty little dream about me.”

Emma laughed and licked her bloodied cracked lips. “May be.”

Regina gave Emma a look of horror.

“We didn’t…?”

“How? By tongue alone?” It was Emma’s turn to get irritated. The smile gone from her face. She launched herself to a standing position. Shaky, but upright. She glanced at her hands with shock and surprise. The sight made her stumble backwards and she hit her back against the wall.

“I don’t understand. How did I…?”

Regina went to stand in front of her. “What did happen last night?”

Emma looked up, searching Regina’s face. “You really don’t remember?”

Regina shook her head.

“What’s the last thing you do remember?”

She watched as Regina’s brow creased. “Having something called alcohol at that horrible bar.” Her eyes narrowed. “Watching you flirt with the whore, while I was forced to talk with that grubby little man.”

“That’s, all you remember?”

Regina rubbed her forehead. “Yes. Was there anything else to remember?”

Emma shook her head, then closed her eyes. She was torn.

“And where are my clothes?”

“I’m not sure Regina. Maybe at the hot spring?” Emma gulped and looked away.

Regina took Emma’s hands in hers and lifted them up to inspect.

“Looks like you’ve broken a lot of bone. This one’s worse. We need to get the swelling down.” She examined the wrists. “So much for travelling today, hey? I suppose one more day or two here won’t be too bad.”

“That’s a matter up for debate.”

Regina’s face screwed up in a mix of intense worry and curiosity. “These are rope burns. You were bound? Emma! Are these your only injuries?”

“I don’t know,” Emma stuttered. She thought about what else hurt. Pretty much all of her.

Regina gently touched Emma’s hands, then examined all the exposed skin.

“You’re hurt,” Regina said. Her voice soft, low, and sympathetic. Emma just felt pain and confusion. Tears barely contained.

“I’m okay,” she lied. There was an imperceptible quiver of her lower lip. She knew she felt far from okay. She gave a sigh. Her jaw set firm, and she withdrew her hands with a yelp. Her blonde hair was tangled and had fallen forward. A lock hung in front of her eyes. Regina tucked the lock behind Emma’s ear, and attempted to catch Emma’s eyes.

“Your chin, your neck, and the back of your head. You’ve been hit. Beaten. Who did this?”

Silence lingered.

“Emma? Who did this to you? Was it,” she paused, “that grubby wolf man? I’ll kill him.”

“No, Regina.”

“Who then?”

Emma went to move away, but Regina stopped her. She placed an arm either side of Emma, and blocked her.

“Tell me,” Regina commanded.

Emma said nothing. Regina let out a cry of frustration. “Let me help you at least. Trust me. I can do that.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll mend on the way out of this town and up the mountain. Just bandage me.” Emma tried to escape Regina’s embrace. But Regina didn’t budge.

Regina smirked.

“Unlike you, my dear, I don’t need to dream about you in compromising positions to heal you.”

Emma sighed. Her shoulders slumped.

“Please Emma. Let me heal you. Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to see you in compromising positions. But not in dreams. In the flesh.”

“Regina, I-”

“Don’t get coy on me now Miss Swan.” The words sounded harsh, but her face showed warmth and openness. “I think we need to see where this goes.” She pulled Emma’s shirt up. Emma closed her eyes and heard the sharp intake of breath as Regina saw the bruised ribs.

She didn’t object as Regina removed her shirt altogether.

Regina stepped closer. Her naked flesh on Emma’s. Despite the pain, there was a flush of tingling warmth.

“And unless you can articulate a meaningful objection, Miss Swan, I’m going to make love to you now.”


End file.
